


Tight Grip Feather Touch (Bursting with Affection)

by stoatwrote



Category: One Piece
Genre: Awkward Goobers In Love, Embarrassment, First Kiss, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Physical Intimacy, because there is one (1) spicy makeout, hand holding, now tagged as Explicit, otherwise it's sfw, post-confession, really it's just an excuse for them to be soft and silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoatwrote/pseuds/stoatwrote
Summary: Sanji releases Zoro with a gasp, pushing him away. He’s breathing hard, feeling like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. Zoro doesn’t look much better, his face lit up like a tomato.“Okay fuck that we’re not doing that again. Obviously you don’t know how to kiss right because I feel like I’m dying.” Zoro gently touches his fingers to his lips, spaces out, then shakes himself "Shithead." He says, like an afterthought as he leaves the galley, flipping Sanji off on his way out.---Sometimes you confess to your shitty rival and you realize you don't know how the fuck to act around each other now that you both know the other feels the same.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 89
Kudos: 250





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title makes it seem much more sexual or dramatic than it is. It's two goobers not sure what to do with themselves. Zero plot, all fluff, and post-confession pining.
> 
> Once again I have been inspired by twitter art! Within the same day, even. This was supposed to be a one shot but instead it's a few short chapters. This is the first time I'm posting before something is finished but worry not it shall be complete!  
> [Art part 1](https://twitter.com/dsmk_tamago/status/1354467496389042176?s=19)  
> [Art part 2](https://twitter.com/dsmk_tamago/status/1354476750651047936?s=19)

* * *

“Great, so we’ve established, we like each other.”

Zoro nods.

Both are still flushed from the actual act of confessing, the admission of feeling after weeks and months of circling each other. Sanji feels tight, anticipatory, relieved.

“Well, what now, marimo?”

Zoro looks completely taken aback by this question and Sanji sighs. Why did he have to fall for someone completely illiterate in the language of love? But, he’s not quite sure what to do either. He’s so used to holding himself back from engaging with his feelings for Zoro that he isn’t sure how to adjust to this new reality.

“Let’s...table it for now. I’ve got dinner to make, you’ve got, what, weights to lift, naps to take, booze to steal?”

Zoro opens his mouth like he wants to say something but closes it again, looks to the side. Is he getting more red?

“What is it? Spit it out! You’re not _actually_ moss on a rock, you _can_ talk you know.”

“Aren’t we supposed to..I’unno, kiss, or something? That’s what Franky and Robin do and they’re…” he moves his hands trying to grab a word out of the air, “together.”

“I’m, uh, sure. We can do that.” Sanji can do that, sure. Right. Kissing Zoro. No big deal. He’s definitely thought about it. He’s wanted to before. The reality can’t be that different from his imagination, right?

Sanji leans forward and Zoro goes stone-still, clenching his whole damned face closed. Sanji’s not doing much better but presses his closed lips to Zoro’s. He counts to two before pulling back. Zoro is still stiff and unyielding. Not much different than usual, then, ha. Except the color that had been fading from his cheeks is coming back. Oh, this could be fun. Finally getting under his skin is a benefit to this whole thing Sanji hadn’t considered.

“Okay, that was terrible, mossman.”

“W-what? No it wasn’t.” Yeah that’s definitely embarrassment. “ I’m a good kisser. Better than you, anyway.” 

“What?! No you’re not! At least I know when it’s bad!” Sanji cannot believe this.

“Well, at least I suggested it! You’re clearly too chickenshit to do it right.”

“Shut up and relax, I’ll show you a real kiss.” Sanji says as he leans in again.

Zoro looks surprised but when their lips meet again he does relax after a second. Sanji angles his head, opens his mouth some, pushing his tongue forward like he read about in his books.

Zoro’s responding to him and fuck it’s-it’s almost too much. They’re not even good at it but his lips are buzzing with sensation like they’re reheating after hours out in the cold. The skin on his head is tingling and he can feel goosebumps rising on his arms. He realizes he’s grabbed onto Zoro and Zoro onto him. It is decidedly too much now, _fuck_. 

Sanji releases Zoro with a gasp, pushing him away. He’s breathing hard, feeling like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. Zoro doesn’t look much better, his face lit up like a tomato. He is also looking at Sanji like Usopp when he’s staring down the barrel of a gun. Or Chopper when Usopp’s told him an incredible (and false) tale. Shocked, is the word. Wide-eyed.

“Okay fuck that we’re not doing that again. Obviously you don’t know how to kiss right because I feel like I’m dying.” Zoro gently touches his fingers to his lips, spaces out, then shakes himself "Shithead." He says, like an afterthought as he leaves the galley, flipping Sanji off on his way out.


	2. Chapter 2

They’ve followed a school of fish to this island. Well, the rest of the crew followed the school. Zoro ended up taking a ride _with_ the fish when Usopp shot a harpoon at one and the trailing rope caught around Zoro’s ankle and dragged him along through the water. He finally cut himself free about 100 feet from shore and swam the rest of the way.

“Zoro-bro!” Franky yells as he hops off Mini Merry into the shallow water. This part of the island is all beach leading into a bamboo forest so the Sunny can’t dock anywhere. Sanji and Usopp had come with Franky. Luffy was standing up at the edge of the forest, having slingshotted himself from the deck, and Zoro narrowly avoiding being his “sturdy object” to latch onto on shore.

Franky is pulling Mini Merry ashore, Usopp and Sanji making their way to him across the sand. When they’re in comfortable earshot he calls, “It was this big, and bright red! I bet we could get at least five of them.” He gestures with his full wingspan, overextending to indicate the fish are even larger than he can show.

“Yes! I knew it would be a good catch!” Usopp exclaims.

Sanji stays silent, looking pissed. He doesn’t break his stride and Zoro has just enough time to realize he’s got a fight on his hands before Sanji is wrapped around him. Which. What? The cook’s arms have come up under his which are still outstretched and he’s clutching at Zoro’s wet, sandy shirt. He knows it can’t feel great to be pressed against someone who’s soaking wet and gritty and yet, the cook is pushing closer, pulling Zoro in. He’s digging his forehead into Zoro’s neck.

“Bastard.” Sanji bites out.

And Zoro realizes, oh, he’s worried. And that’s the thing about now, about after The Confession: it doesn’t have to be a fight. They don’t have to hide their feelings behind swords or kicks. It’s. Well, it’s a lot to take in. Zoro has absolutely not adjusted but he manages to bring his arms down from the spread position he froze in, and bring them around Sanji’s body.

“Worried about me, shit cook?”

“Yeah.” Sanji says, softer this time.

“Oh.” Fuck, that’s also new. “W-well. Don’t be. It’ll take more than some fish to kill me.” He pats Sanji’s shoulder awkwardly.

“Yeah but a couple gallons of water in your lungs could. Or it could have snapped your ankle. There could have been no island nearby. Accidents happen, and then where would you be? Dead and unable to fulfill your promise.”

Zoro moves his hand to Wado, grips the hilt. He won’t fail her. Sanji’s hand covers his as he steps back. “I know.” he says. 

It shouldn’t be a surprise that Sanji knows, on either level. They’ve always been in sync. But it feels like it means something more, now. Now that he knows the cook feels the same. Another wavelength to meet upon.

It makes his heart skip a beat but he covers it with a grin, cocky. “Bet I can catch more than you.”

“Yeah, no way in hell, asshole.” Sanji returns the grin and gives his shin a light kick for good measure. “Mine will taste better, too.”

“Oh we’ll fuckin’ see about that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They of course tie and you know Sanji makes a delicious meal out of it.
> 
> Maybe a little less goofy and a little more feelings. The chapter directly inspired by the art!  
> I do [art on tumblr](https://chikabika.tumblr.com/tagged/stoat+draws) as well! Or just general blog stuff [chikabika.tumblr.com](chikabika.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks sorry for the delay! I have been dealing with some sudden wrist pain (unfortunately probably due to writing fic lol) so I've been avoiding keyboards as much as possible.  
> But I couldn't stay away from these two goobers in love, so here's another chapter! (Don't worry, I had most of it written out already and just did some edits. Rest is an important part of recovery!)
> 
> And thanks to all that have commented! Each one brings me a lot of joy, even if I don't respond.

Zoro is watching Sanji. He  _ knows _ Zoro is watching him, he can feel his eyes on the back of his head. When me moves around in the kitchen, grabbing something from the cupboard above the counter and thereby facing Zoro, he does a quick sweep of the room. Zoro doesn’t look away. It’s still new, to not catch him whipping his head in another direction or closing his eyes in a poor imitation of sleep.

In fact, it’s Zoro who catches him this time, holding his gaze, and Sanji can’t look away. A lazy smile spreads across Zoro’s face. He blinks slowly and Sanji is struck by the image of a large cat, lazy from food and the sun, and snorts. It startles Zoro out of whatever thoughts he was having and his eyebrows furrow. Too bad, Sanji had liked being able to roam his features with his own eyes. He’d like to do it with his hands, too. Touch his cheeks, feel the warmth beneath them. Maybe even kiss Zoro’s eyelids. But he’d never go for it. Sanji’s the romantic in this...situation. What even are they?

“Cook, booze.”

Sanji rolls his eyes. He glances back at the kitchen. It’s still a mess from his reorganizing but he has time before he needs to be done. He washes his hands and then grabs a bottle of wine from the rack and walks towards the table.

“Okay,” he says, setting it down and sitting on the bench in front of Zoro. Zoro reaches out for it but he pulls it back. “But, you have to do me a favor.” 

Zoro narrows his eyes at him, crossing his arms. “What kind of favor.”

“Nothing too big. I want to touch your face.”

Zoro’s eyebrows raise in surprise. He looks down at Sanji’s hands. “Your hands are wet.” He says, like it’s some excuse.

“I washed them.”   
  
“To touch my face.”

“Yes.” It seems only natural to have clean hands to touch someone else’s face. It’s respectful, at the very least. “Besides they’re barely wet. Basically dry already, see?” He holds his hands up for Zoro to inspect.

Zoro gulps and Sanji can’t read the look on his face. He would swear it was trepidation but he’s not sure Zoro’s capable of feeling such a thing. But Zoro nods so Sanji goes ahead and rests the tips of his fingers on Zoro’s cheeks, fanning them out over the skin.

Zoro gasps, sharp, like he’s been stabbed. Sanji immediately pulls his hands away but Zoro catches his wrists.

“Please.” It comes out as a whisper, like Zoro is pained. His eyes are closed, brows pinched up.

“Zoro…”

Zoro lets out his breath, controlled, and guides Sanji’s hands back to his face, letting go when he’s sure they’ll stay.

  
  


So Sanji continues, or, starts, really. He starts with Zoro’s cheeks, moves out and over his ears, trails in the crevice behind the shell that joins them to his head. His right hand moves through the small curtain of Zoro’s earrings, lingering in the motion. The telling dance of those figures of gold dripping from his ear have caught Sanji’s attention more times than he can count. Symbiotes that belay the movement of their host, still caught in their kinetic arc even when he has stilled. And though Sanji may have been the cause for Zoro’s movement before, it is now  _ his _ fingers that are directly responsible for moving the earrings. And Zoro is allowing it. It fills him with a heady rush of what, he does not know, but it’s intoxicating. He gives them a light tug to snap himself out of it. Zoro’s shoulders jump. Sanji huffs out an amused breath.

He loops his fingers fully around Zoro’s ears to start at the top of his jaw and slide down. He feels the texture of Zoro’s sideburns as they transition to smooth skin, unlike his own stubbly chin. His palms cup Zoro’s face, relishing the warm skin against his palms. What a delight, to hold the face of someone you care about. To receive that trust and return it. As he does so, Sanji moves the pads of his thumbs over the bags under Zoro’s eyes, the skin between his brows, the short hair of the brows themselves. He tries to smooth them out, but each move since the tug has Zoro tensing more and more.

Sanji doesn’t remove his hands again but he stills them, relaxing down into just holding Zoro’s jaw again. 

“Look, if you hate this you can just say so. It’s fine.”

And really, it is. Sanji was curious but if Zoro doesn’t like his face being touched Sanji can respect that. His eyebrows have certainly relaxed a fraction since Sanji stopped moving. He really wants to smooth them all the way down.

Zoro’s eyes are still closed. “No. No it’s-it’s good training. I’m just not used to it.”

“Training? For what? I’ve seen you touch your face, hell, I’ve seen Chopper do it, Nami and Usopp too. And Luffy, obviously. Even Franky’s probably done it by accident.”

Zoro sighs, “I’m not used to  _ you _ doing it.”

Sanji is very glad Zoro still has his eyes closed because he’s pretty sure he’s gaping like a red snapper, and is the same color to boot.

“Y-y-you can’t just  _ say shit _ like that!”

Zoro opens his eyes and his brows flip, from pinched to furrowed. It’s pretty cute.

“I thought that was the point? That we can say shit like that now that we’re...What are we?”

“I don’t know, what do you want to be?”

“The Greatest Swordsman.” Zoro says with a determined nod.

“I-yeah okay. You know what, I don’t actually want to have that conversation right now.” Sanji sighs, blows some hair out of his face. “Okay, so yes you can say shit like that because we’re, uh, on the same page about our feelings. But you  _ can’t _ say shit like that because I’ll fucking combust you shitty swordsman.”

“Well how do you think I feel, curlybrow?”

“What do you mean ‘how do I think you feel’! You like me, right?!” Sanji is raising his voice and he doesn’t even mean to, but Zoro brings out the yeller in him.   
  
Zoro is matching him right back. “Of course I like you! I said so didn’t I?  _ I’m _ gonna combust cuz of your hands on my face!!”

“What’s so bad about my hands on your face!?!” Sanji has stood up from the bench but his hands haven’t left Zoro’s skin. Partly because he’s squishing the man’s cheeks together, and partly because Zoro is keeping them there with an iron grip.

“They’re your most important thing!! You’re touching me with your  _ treasure _ and IT FEELS LIKE LIGHTING AND  _ I LIKE YOU!! _ ” Zoro is standing too. They must look ridiculous, shouting at each other while they both keep Sanji’s hands glued to Zoro’s face.

“I! YOU! Shut up!” Fuck, he hadn’t even thought about that. Yes, his hands are his treasure, but sometimes they’re just his hands. He pulls them down and Zoro lets him. He pushes his fingers through his hair. This is too much to deal with. Why did they ever confess to each other? It’s  _ awful _ being confronted with reciprocated feelings!

Zoro grabs onto him, stops him from pacing along the table. “Stop. Just-” And kisses Sanji’s exposed forehead. It stops him dead in his tracks, shocked, despite the awkward maneuvering it took on Zoro’s part. He hadn’t expected such a brazen show of affection and comforting.

“What was that for?”   
  


“Dunno, just wanted to.” At Sanji’s raised eyebrows Zoro looks away with a frown. “You were stressed. It worked, didn’t it? Shut up, at least it stopped you thinking.”

“I…” hadn’t said anything. Whatever. “Yeah, it did. Thanks.” Sanji leans forward to kiss him properly. Maybe it will go better this time.

“SANJI! FOOOOOOOOD!” Luffy yells as he barrels through the galley door. 

Sanji finds his foot meeting Zoro’s blade, their bodies already broken apart. It’s not even like they have to hide what’s going on (their realization that feelings were mutual was public enough to make that impossible). But Sanji agrees, it’s hard enough being vulnerable around each other. To be vulnerable with each other and in front of the crew is not to be born.

Luffy is a fine distraction anyway, as Sanji has to stop him from making a bigger mess of the kitchen and Zoro leaves with his yet-unopened bottle of wine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news! The new keyboard I got makes me feel like I'm controlling a futuristic computer. Oh and also it's helped with the wrist pain.  
> Y'all's comments are so wonderful to read and I read them daily. Thank you so much!  
> Also, you may notice the chapter total went from 5 to 8. I have generated a few more ideas and since I want to keep with alternating POVs I had to come up with a few more to keep with that pattern! Hope you enjoy!

They’re walking side by side through a port town. Which, most towns are port towns since most towns are on islands. Regardless. They’re walking side by side. Sanji is pointing out an industrial cooking supply shop he wants to stop in up ahead. Zoro is trying to focus on his words but all he can think about is that the cook’s hand is an inch from his own, almost touching when they swing past in stride.

He could reach out and touch it. He could. Not just by the fact that he is physically able to do so, but because he is pretty sure that’s allowed now. He wouldn’t have to explain it away or expect a kick to the face for it. But it also means something now. Well, it always did, but now Sanji knows what it means. He’ll know it’s because Zoro likes him. But he already knows!

This is ridiculous. The thought of running from a fight never even crosses his mind so why is he hesitating to hold some shit cook’s shitty hand? Not even hold it, just brush their knuckles together. And he hates himself for hoping that if he did just that, Sanji would take the next step and entangle their fingers.

Will this ever get easier?

Fuck it. He has nothing to lose. In fact, he has everything to gain because if he doesn’t do this it’s going to be proof he’s a coward and that is frankly un-fucking-acceptable.

Deep breath.

In.

Out.

They’re almost to the shop.

In.

He grabs Sanji’s hand. Too tight, probably, but he’s not grabbing something fragile. The cook won’t break so easily.

Not tight enough, though, because he is suddenly sailing through the air to slam into the brick wall of the shop Sanji meant to enter. He’s sure he has a distinct shoe print in the middle of his chest. Damn and he didn’t even have time to appreciate the feeling of the cook’s hand.

“You fucking curlicue bastard, what the hell!” he yells, getting to his feet and checking the wall behind him for damage. Fuck, that hurt. The wall doesn’t look too broken. Nothing they can’t get away with, anyway.

Sanji runs towards him. “Shit, Zoro, sorry. Instinct.”

“What, your instinct is to kick me when I touch you?”

“Uh, yeah?? You don’t touch me. Ever. Unless you’re looking for a fight.” Sanji has reached him and is watching him dust himself off, hands hovering like he wants to help but isn’t sure how.

“Nuh-uh I’ve definitely touched you without looking for a fight. Like, at parties and shit.”

“Party touches don’t count, shitface!” They’re leaning in for a proper argument now.

“Yes they do!”

“No they don’t!”

“Why not!”

Sanji throws his arms up in frustration then crosses them, leaning back, looking away. He’s shutting himself off. “Because you got to pretend they didn’t happen if they were at parties.”

Zoro closes his mouth. Shit. “Shit. I. I didn’t know it, um, mattered. I...You never mentioned it either, I thought you didn’t want to. Or you didn’t notice. Thought you thought it was just, you know, skinship. Nakama shit.”

“Was it? Just nakama shit?” Sanji’s looking at him again, that’s something.

“Will you hate me if I say ‘no’?”

“No.”

“Then no. It wasn’t. This whole thing? This...us being like this. It’s been a long time for me. A really fucking long time. And now I finally get to touch you, and you know what it means, and it gets to mean something.”

Sanji is smiling at him, body language open again. It’s more of a relief than he realized. Shit is that how it’s going to be? His feelings attached to Sanji in more ways than like and attraction? Though, that too has been true for a long time.

“I get it. There’s. There’s something about it being in the open, changes things.” The cook pushes his hand through his hair. Not in the anxious way Zoro has learned to watch for, but more akin to shaking off bad feelings, cleansing.   
  


He thinks about holding back his snort and then lets it go anyway. “You’re like a dog.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m going to ignore you because you said something very sweet just now and I’m hoping positive reinforcement will net me big returns,  _ Fido _ .”

Zoro gives Sanji his own kick which the cook easily avoids. They scuffle a bit, the gravity of holding the man’s hand briefly leaving Zoro’s mind.

Sanji disengages first with a flick of his bangs into their correct position. 

“Well, now that we have that settled, let’s go.” Sanji says, waving away the totally unjustified punting into the wall, and makes a grab for Zoro’s hand.

Zoro whips it out of his reach. “No.”

“What? Zoro, come on don’t be a baby, I said sorry. Besides, I want to hold hands too.”

“No, I have to do it.”

Sanji gives him a look that distinctly says  _ Really. _ He mutters something under his breath that sounds like “shitty stubborn ox-headed mossmen.”

“Should I turn my back so you can surprise me or something?” he says for Zoro to hear.

“No, just. Okay. I’m doing it now.” He already did it once, it’s not hard to do it again. In fact, it should be even easier. The second rep means you’re warmed up, your body knows how to move. So move! Just. Move!

Zoro is staring at Sanji’s hand so intensely he’s surprised it doesn’t burst into flames. It moves towards his hand again and he bats it away at the wrist.

“Quit! I’m gonna do it!”

“Yeah, as soon as the waves rise and this island is consumed by the ocean in a thousand years. Fucking hold my hand, marimo!”

Zoro does, just to prove him wrong.

It’s nice. Warm. A little like touching an electric fence, with sensation only at one point but the effect rippling throughout his body. He shakes himself to dispel it.

Sanji rolls his eyes but his expression is fond. “I can’t believe you’re pulling this shit on our first date.”

Zoro whips his head to look at him. “This is a  _ date?!?” _

“Of course it fucking is!”

They’re not even allowed in the shop because they’re “too loud and weapons aren’t allowed.” Which is frankly ridiculous to Zoro because it’s a port town. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Valentine's Day to all the singles, couples, triads, and polycules out there! Hope it's a pleasant one! It's extremely cold here and snowing as I type. I'm celebrating by _not_ getting the plague, thank you very much Saint Valentine.
> 
> **Warning for descriptions of a nosebleed (not gorey but blood is mentioned a couple times).**
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy this chapter! It's not Valentine's focused (is that even a holiday in the One Piece universe?) but it does have a little heart imagery. And-

Sanji catches himself with the taste of mint.

He didn’t even realize he was cutting enough mint leaves into hearts to garnish Zoro’s drink as well until he stuck a piece into his mouth absentmindedly. Mint scraps don’t work well in a broth and he already blended the lassi. Might as well eat them. He puts the scissors down, realizing he can’t use this leaf for Zoro. Except-and he catches himself again, because now he  _ can _ garnish Zoro’s drink with hearts or his snacks with cute faces or whatever he wants! It’s not a secret from anyone that he likes that shitty swordsman and it’s certainly not a secret from Zoro. He doesn’t have to fear humiliation and rejection. Not that Zoro would humiliate him, but a kind let down would be excruciating in itself.

Well, in that case. He finishes cutting his mint leaves then grabs his heart stencil and matcha powder. Except, no, wait, it’s in the other cabinet now since he reorganized. He grabs his sifter too and makes a matcha powder heart on the top of Zoro’s drink. It’s already more salty than the sweet ones he made for everyone else (mango, sweet mint, strawberry, and may Zeff forgive him, cola). But Zoro likes strong flavors-that or he’s burned off his taste buds with all that liquor he drinks. Sanji thinks the latter is more likely, and he doesn’t miss an opportunity to let Zoro know. Bitter from the matcha, sour from the yoghurt, minty and salty for taste. And cold as you can get without freezing, for the heat wave they’re all pushing through. He should take some time in the sun soon.

He takes a toothpick and draws out Zoro’s distinctive frowny eyebrows on top of the heart. He starts laughing at his little creation and has to turn away so he doesn’t disturb the powder. With the mint hearts for garnish Sanji’s pretty sure even an oblivious lout like Zoro couldn’t miss this message.

He keeps catching himself smiling in anticipation all through distributing lassi to everyone else. Zoro’s up in the crow’s nest working out so he serves him last. Not only because he knows the rest of the drinks wouldn’t survive him leaving them unattended (and he’s not about to climb a ladder with a whole tray of food if he doesn’t have to), but because it means he has no pressing time limit. He can linger. Maybe ~~ogle~~ watch Zoro hone his body into a form intent on a single purpose. He’s always thought it was similar to sharpening a blade, something both of them are long-since familiar with.

He makes his way up to the crow’s nest with Zoro’s drink, careful not to jostle it and ruin the little face. The heat and humidity are even worse up here, and Sanji is about to gripe at Zoro for his closed-window choices until he realizes  _ why _ Zoro is trying to melt anyone who enters. He’s stretching. Not just stretching but practicing yoga. Well, the lassi feels even more appropriate now.

He watches, condensation from the glass wetting his hand as Zoro bends over, comes back to a half bend, then extends down again. He doesn’t have a shirt or pants on, just in his boxers, and when he bends down Sanji can see the outline of his ass which is a very pleasing form indeed.

Zoro’s able to put his palms flat on the ground which surprises Sanji given Zoro’s muscle mass. It’s usually somewhat of a trade-off, mass or stretch. Unless you’re Luffy in which case you’re naturally stretchy by way of Devil Fruit and develop muscle mass without intent or practice. Sanji’s body is a weapon unto itself but Zoro. Zoro’s is something different. A conduit. A hand of fate guiding three blades. Zoro would probably disagree. There is something incredibly attractive, not just about Zoro’s form, but the intent behind it. But Zoro must be at the end of his session if he’s able to achieve that kind of reach. He’s also  _ drenched _ with sweat.

Sanji wants to touch.

So he does, sneaking up behind Zoro as he’s bent down to place a hand cold from the lassi on his lower back, a little to the right. Cupping his side just a bit. 

It is, in short, a mistake.

Zoro jackknifes backwards, crashing his skull into Sanji’s face. Sanji tastes iron and his sense of smell goes all tinny and hollow.

“Ow!! Fuck!” Sanji puts his hand to the bridge of his nose, feeling for damage. The lassi in his other hand is undisturbed because he’s a fucking professional.

“What the hell curly brow! Don’t sneak up on me!” Zoro says as he turns around. “Oh shit. Fuck, cook, your face.”

“What, what about my face? Don’t tell me I look like my bounty now!” But even as he says it he can taste blood in his mouth. Damnit.

“No, but you still look like shit. Shit. Uh, here.” Zoro pushes a towel from the bench into Sanji’s hand, taking the lassi to free it up. “You should definitely see Chopper.”

“It’s just a nosebleed. Besides, since when did you care if I saw Chopper for shit that’s  _ your _ fault?” But Zoro’s already put down the lassi and is pushing Sanji back towards the ladder.

“Just! Just see him!”

“Fine! Stop pushing me!” He holds the towel to his nose, making sure to angle his head down so he doesn’t swallow the blood. “I think you broke it, shitty stone headed moss creature.” he says as he heads down. Zoro is right behind him, well, above him given the ladder, but ignores his comment.

Chopper is luckily in his infirmary. Sanji does not want to telegraph to the whole crew that he’s got a possibly broken nose by Zoro’s hand. Well, head. Shit did he get a concussion too? He can’t think straight.

“Sanji! What happened! Were you two fighting again? I told you two to stop going for the face!” Chopper bustles down from his chair, and indicates for Sanji to sit on the bed.

“No, we weren’t fighting, don’t worry Doctor. I just hit my head against a moss-covered rock.”

“Shaddup it doesn’t make me happy when you call me Doctor, bastard!” Chopper wiggles his happiness out and then gets to examining Sanji. Zoro hovers, arms crossed and face rigid. Sanji tries to give him a smile around Chopper’s movements, communicate that it’s all okay. Accidents happen after all. Zoro can just make it up to him by carrying the groceries on the next island. Gods he’s gone soft on the man. If you had told him five months ago that he would be forgiving Zoro for seriously damaging his face he would have gone and kicked the guy’s ass just for the idea of ruining his chances with beautiful ladies. If  _ you _ were a beautiful lady he’d thank you for your esteemed clairvoyance and if you weren’t he’d probably kick your ass too.

“Zoro can you move back please? You’re blocking the light.” Chopper says.

Zoro huffs and instead of moving away he sits right next to Sanji, shoulder pressed to his. What a contrary person. Sanji huffs into the towel, moving it up again as Chopper moves back to his station to grab something.

“Well, it doesn’t look broken. And you don’t have a concussion.” he says, coming back. “The blood seems to be slowing, but switch to this for now. It’s sterile, unlike Zoro’s towel. And ice it with this.  _ Don’t  _ take the cloth off. It protects your skin. Stay sitting up and keep your head leaning forward. And grab me if it lasts for more than 20 minutes. You can stay here if you want.”

“Yes sir. Yeah I’ll do that I don’t have anywhere else to be.” Plus, Chopper’s infirmary is one of the only place on the ship that is cool right now. Probably why the reindeer is in here.

“You know when you came in here, I almost thought you two were finally, uh, you know. Cuz you were both sweating..and Zoro’s,” Chopper indicates Zoro’s distinct state of undress. “And Sanji got a nosebleed from that.”

Sanji feels himself go beet red. Zoro startles next to him at Chopper’s words.

“Which, if that’s the case Sanji we should probably talk about soluti-”

“What-” Sanji starts.

“No we-”

“I, I mean-”

“-weren’t doing anything!” Zoro gets out over him.

“Haha yeah I mean, if we were, I probably  _ would _ die of blood loss. Zoro’s lethally attractive.”

“I-you what?” Zoro jumps up from his seat. He just sort of,  _ stares _ at Sanji for a moment, and then bolts out the room. 

“What! What did I say!” Damn and Sanji thought they had made so much progress since their mutual confession and first kiss. Zoro held his hand! They’ve gone on  _ three dates! _ Maybe wreaking havoc in a Marine-controlled city wouldn’t count as a third date for other people but for them Sanji would consider it middling romance  _ at least _ . Fucking hell.

By the time he leaves Chopper’s infirmary, Zoro is no longer in the Crow’s Nest. In fact, he’s not in any of his usual places. Sanji does find his glass washed and set to dry in the kitchen when he goes in to start dinner.

He only sees the man when dinner is halfway over. Sanji sets out the food he reserved for him. No one goes hungry, even if it means he has to put up with Luffy’s whining. He takes the opportunity of serving Zoro to lean into his space, hand on Zoro’s far shoulder as he leans over him to place his plate on the table.

“Quit avoiding me, marimo.” he whispers into Zoro’s ear.

There is a distinctive thump below the table that rattles Zoro’s silverware.

He pulls back, message delivered, but Zoro grabs the hand on his shoulder and looks at him with this-it’s a look that morphs into many forms. Frustrated, gentle, remorseful, and maybe even a bit pleading. Sanji didn’t realize Zoro could make those kinds of expressions. He tilts his head in question, but before he can ask anything, Zoro has to start defending his food from wandering hands.

Well, whatever, they can talk about it later. Maybe after dinner. Zoro’s been helping him with dishes lately. It’s been a nice pocket of easy time alone. Talking, silence, sometimes they listen to one of the records Sanji brought with him from the Baratie. He’d like to dance with Zoro some time.

Except.

Except Zoro doesn’t stick around after dinner. He leaves with the rest, leaving dish-washing duty to whoever’s on the roster. It’s Usopp, which is fine with Sanji. He and Usopp have great conversations and now with the Sunny and Franky, Usopp has even more space and tools to work on his ideas. What's not fine is that he doesn't see Zoro for the rest of the evening either. He and Usopp finish up and wherever Zoro is, it's not somewhere Sanji can find him.

Sanji only knows Zoro goes to bed that night because he can hear his snores when Sanji wakes up from another nightmare. And you know what? It fucking sucks. Sanji is, in fact, kind of pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -some angst! >:)


	6. The Reason for the Explicit Tag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swan to john I started this whole thing intending to write one chapter, with zero spice. But now we’re on chapter 6 and you are about to read a very spicy thing. Well, maybe medium-to-hot spicy. Four peppers. 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️  
> I even came back and added to it once I realized I was leaning into the explicit nature 🙈  
> And then kept second-guessing myself, which is why it’s taken so long for me to update.  
> If this isn’t what you came for, totally understandable. Next chapter will be back to business, so I hope you’re willing to wait around for that. If not, thanks for reading this far!

“This is unacceptable.” Zoro says. Because it is.

Sanji doesn’t so much as move his head in response. He’s taking a rare moment of rest, laying out in the sun on one of Sunny’s upper decks, with lawn chair, towel, and large umbrella for shade. Zoro wonders if he’s asleep. 

He waits. 

Sanji sighs out.

“I was enjoying a perfectly good sunbath until you, unfortunate paramour, showed up. In case you cared.”

Okay, so the icy tone may be warranted. Zoro has been avoiding Sanji since he knocked his nose in yesterday. Getting the blood out of his hair was both a pain and disturbingly unsettling. He should not be so bothered by washing blood off his body by now. Even...even Sanji’s.

“Yeah well _you_ interrupt _my_ naps all the time.” Zoro says.

“Unless you’re here to apologize I don’t actually want to hear it. Also, by the way, this isn’t a nap. I’m taking a break. And I interrupt _your_ naps because you nap _all the damn time_ and deserve to be kicked in the head. Now fuck off.”

Zoro has to change tact. Three things are unacceptable now. One, Sanji is angry with him in an unfun way. Not fun way? In a way that doesn’t lead to exchanging blows on the deck of the Sunny. Two, Sanji is wearing swim briefs, of all things, and it is unacceptable to subject Zoro to seeing that much of his skin at once. Because. Because, well, the reason _that’s_ unacceptable actually ties back to the original, and third unacceptable thing. Which is: Zoro feels entirely too affected by someone he’s maybe-dating-but-definitely-something. He’s too affected by Sanji. And right now he’s too affected by looking at Sanji.

At Sanji, who is not looking at him.

“You’re distracting.”

“ _You’re_ distracting _me!_ Did you really finally talk to me just to insult me? Unless you’re hungry or we’re being attacked, fuck off.” Sanji finally looks at him but his eyes are blocked by his sunglasses. “And no, wanting booze is not being hungry.” He turns away again, resolute.

Not what Zoro meant.

“You’re distracting _constantly_ , ero-cook. _Erotic_ cook. You’re a shitty, erotic cook. Stop it.” He won’t be dissuaded so easily. He needs _something_ to happen. Because if it doesn’t, someone’s going to get killed and it might fucking be Zoro, gutted by a stranger’s sword while he’s fixating on something like Sanji’s hair that looks incredibly soft and he wants to touch it and he _can now_ and that’s _the problem_ and-

Sanji stands up, finally giving him his full attention, sunglasses pushed up on his head. “Stop being _me?_ Are you shitting me? Or are you just looking for a fight? Cuz I’ll go if you wanna fucking go. Oh, I’d relish the chance to kick your ass right now, pickle head.”

“Yeah, let’s fucking g-no. Fucking hell. Sanji-” a foot is coming for him anyway and he blocks with his arms.

Sanji is flushed, the pink traveling down his chest into the hair there and Zoro can’t look away, and Zoro wants to touch there too. This is exactly what he means by distracting. He pushes the cook’s foot down, disengaging. 

“I told you you _can’t say shit like that_ , shithead!”

“Say what!”

“Shit like, oh, I don’t know, my name?!? You never call me by my name.”

“Why can’t I call you by your name?! Sanji. Sanji Sanji Sanji!”

“Because it’s not fair! It's like a shock to my heart but you're not even affected!”

“You think I’m not affected?!? It’s not _fair_ that I want to touch you all the time but when you touch me I freeze up! I hurt you and I can’t fucking handle it. Which is fucking bullshit because we hurt each other all the time! And yeah, I’m sorry for avoiding you! But _you_ said I was _‘lethally attractive.’_ Who says shit like that!? My heart beats faster and my hands go all tingly and I feel like I’m dying and it’s the best and worst feeling!”

“Are fucking kidding me? You avoided me because of _that?!_ I’m going to fucking _kill you_.” Sanji hisses and then pounces, forcibly wrestling Zoro to the deck, grabbing his face. “I’m going to kiss you. Say yes.”

“Yes.”

“Great.” And then he is, they are. 

Zoro doesn’t feel any less like he’s dying than that first time in the galley those weeks ago. In fact, he feels like he’s dying even more, with Sanji on top of him and pressing into his mouth. But now he’s had a chance to think it through, practice in his head. He forces himself to relax his mouth, return the kiss. It’s good. It’s _really_ good. It's also really _rough_.

Sanji bites at his lower lip, _hard_. He tastes iron. Sanji’s fingernails are digging into Zoro’s sides through his shirt. He feels blood rushing in his ears, his nose flaring and he drinks in the scent of the cook, salty, smokey, musky with sweat from the heat. The pain makes things bearable, balancing the unfamiliar flare of nerve endings where Sanji touches him, slightly dulled as it is through the fabric.

“Get this off right the fuck now.” Sanji growls into his mouth, pushing his shirt up and gripping at the skin underneath. So much for dulled sensation. Zoro can hardly think with the bursts of pain and pleasure radiating out of the cook’s hands. Oh fuck it’s his _hands_ on Zoro’s _skin_ . **_Again_ ** _._

“Yeah yes okay ye-” and he can’t say much more because Sanji’s hands aren’t just gripping anymore they’re clawing, tearing their way up his sides and he jerks, instinctively trying to escape. 

He can’t. 

He doesn’t want to. 

Sanji’s legs are squeezing his hips tight by the knees. Surrounded by two deadly weapons and fuck he’s never felt so turned on in his life.

“And this, fuck, why do you wear so many layers! It’s a heat wave!” Sanji’s tugging his haramaki up along with the shirt and Zoro has to sit up to get them both off, Sanji insistently tearing the fabric up to get at more skin. And then he’s pushing Zoro down again before he has a chance to get his clothes off. He hits the deck with a _thump_ , pushed just this side of too hard, and he doesn’t know why but he likes it. He _likes_ the cook forcing him down. 

There is a moment. Eternal until it’s over and yet feels like a flash.

When Zoro isn’t fully free and is in fact more constrained than before, his arms caught up in his shirt and haramaki from the inefficient tugging of the cook’s impatient attempt to undress him. Sanji is caging him in with his body, blocking out the sun.

Zoro is caught. Like prey in a trap. Heart hammering in his chest, breathing heavy: all the signs of something in danger.

And the predator has found him, is fucking eating him alive.

Sanji is biting down on his neck, holding his arms still above his head. He is absolutely going to leave a mark and Zoro is _thrilled._ It’s that perfect position where his shoulder joints are angled just so to pinch a nerve and he can’t push against the hands holding his arms down. It’s exhilarating. He feels exposed, a beast laid out on a platter, and the cook is _finally_ the one eating.

He convulses when Sanji latches on to his nipple, letting go of his arms to slide further down his body. Fuck, the teeth, the tongue, the fact that they’re the cook’s. He can’t help the horrifically needy moan that escapes him.

Without the pressure keeping his arms down, he frees his hands, wanting to reciprocate, to feed the cook further, not knowing where to touch. Sanji drags his mouth to the other side of Zoro’s chest, and suddenly where to hold is no longer a concern. He grabs wherever he can. He thinks it’s the cook’s shoulders.

“S-San-Sanji. Sanji Sanji Sanji S-Sanji-” he lets out a litany of the cook’s name, a chant, a mantra, as he hangs on for dear life.

He can feel Sanji grinning against his skin briefly before he returns to terrorizing his chest, licking, sucking, _biting_. Zoro’s hands stay strictly above the belt-or, elastic waistband, as the case may be. He is _not_ prepared to touch Sanji’s legs. _Especially_ not bare as they are. But fuck, he can feel them against his sides and it’s almost too much. The skin there catches, friction created by a sheen of sweat on both of them. Fuck, the idea of touching Sanji’s inner thigh with his hand, instead of his waist. With his _mouth_.

The lave of the cook’s own mouth leaves him, pulling him back to the ordeal he is currently in. He opens eyes he didn’t realize had closed and catches on Sanji’s as he sits up. The cook’s eyes are hooded and blown wide with lust. His mouth is a mess, wet, red, grinning with a tongue running over his lips. He obviously likes what he sees. It only reinforces the image of a predator. Zoro's heart ratchets up another couple gears. He could look at Sanji's face like this for millenia.

Zoro's hands fall off Sanji’s shoulders to the deck as the cook rises, careful to avoid _those legs_. There are red streaks peeking around his arms from Zoro’s tight grip on his sun-hot skin.

Sanji gives him an incredibly devilish smirk and then cups both of his pecs and _squeezes_.

“FUCK!” Zoro’s hips buck up, jostling the cook, but he rides it out like the graceful fucker he is. Fuck. Have his pecs always been this sensitive? Have they always been a direct line to his dick? He didn’t think so, but he hasn’t played with them on his own. Something about it being the cook, about his mouth having been there moments before. It does things to him.

“You like that huh? Like when I play with your tits?” Sanji purrs.

Zoro can only moan in response as the cook continues to manipulate his flesh. He grabs both nipples between his fingers and pinches, twisting just a little. Pulls _up_ and it is quickly way too much. _Everything_ is setting Zoro ablaze. His bitten and red-sucked skin is on fire with pain and pleasure, he can feel every move the cook makes. Kneading his muscles, scratching along the indents his teeth left, pressing into the bruises he made, harder than necessary but it’s good, it’s _so fucking good_ . And it’s not just his hands, which are bad enough. The cook is grinding just the littlest bit against Zoro’s stomach, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. Like playing with Zoro’s pecs has him so turned on he’s moving without thinking and _fuck._

Zoro gets to see Sanji’s _hunger_ and even better, he is the _meal_.

Sanji pushes the meat of his pecs together as far as he can. Zoro can’t help but be reminded of cleavage-

“Oh, they’re just big enough for a titjob. Next time, hm, marimo?”

“Fffffffuhh- _Sanji_ ,” Zoro's nails dig into the deck.

“Oh? What’s that? Do you want me to _fuck your tits,_ _Zoro?”_

“ _Yes._ ” Zoro groans. Yes he very much wants that. Any time. Any time at all.

“Ah-well, Good.” Sanji ducks back down to Zoro’s shoulder, tugging his head to the side to get more access. Ha, he’s embarrassed. Good to know he’s not the only one affected. It doesn’t stop the rough handling though, which is the only thing keeping Zoro able to manage. The pain of Sanji tugging at his hair, forcing him into a position is heady though. Zoro doesn’t know how much longer pain will keep him grounded. It’s mixing in with everything else and starting to work in tandem, feeding Zoro’s heaving, roiling arousal.

Sanji’s mouth is moving, first along his shoulder, grazing his teeth along the skin. Then up his neck, biting a mark into him and then moving further, until he’s at the join of his ear. And then he’s latching onto Zoro’s right earlobe and he can feel the teeth, the pressure that threatens too much bite. Danger and pleasure mixed and the cook is working his mouth around, to lick the sensitive skin behind his ear. Zoro can feel it in his toes.

The wood under Zoro’s fingers splinters. He can fucking hear it.

Sanji must too, because he growls in displeasure, a sound Zoro is quite familiar with. And then oh shit oh fuck oh no he’s grabbing Zoro’s hands and pressing them into Sanji’s thighs, firmly wrapping his fingers around the back. A quick squeeze saying ‘stay’.

Zoro does, if only because he is stuck there like holding a live wire, body unable to let go yet unable to handle the shock. He wants to throw the cook off for the overwhelming sensation, would, but can’t. Because it’s _Sanji’s_ hands and _Sanji’s_ mouth and _his_ hands on _Sanji’s_ _legs_ and he honestly might come in his pants right now and the cook hasn’t even _touched him there._ It’s Sanji, who he fights and bickers with and who he likes, maybe even loves, who likes and oh fuck maybe loves him back. Who touched his face and held his hand and brought him a delicious drink covered in declarations of affection that are so like him. And who called him attractive to the point of death and who’s kissing him right now and-

_“Hic.”_

They both freeze.

Sanji slowly raises up, looking at Zoro. Both their chests are heaving and then another-

“ _Hic.”_

“Are you-was that a hiccup?”

“No, of course it _-hic-_ wasn’t.”

Sanji flicks his forehead.

“Yeah it was, moss man.”

_“Hic.”_

Sanji leans back down and rests his forehead on Zoro’s chest. His hands now gently slide up and down Zoro’s sides, almost soothing.

“Fuck, Zoro, I’m so turned on right now.” He looks up when his head is disturbed by another hiccup. “Are you okay?”

“Y- _hic_ -eah. No. Yes.” He tries to breathe deeply.

Sanji gets a cat-like grin on his face. “Want me to blow you?”

Fuck. He really wants that. But. “I can’t.”

“You wouldn’t be doing any work.”

“Need more - _hic_ \- training. Came up here to - _hic_ \- train.”

“What do you mean train?” Sanji looks around. “You don’t have your weights he-oh.” And now the cat grin is back, spread wide. “Is that so, marimo? A little too affected by all this?” He sits up to gesture to his body. It is unfair how good he looks stretched out and preening.

Zoro hiccups again, closes his eyes. _“Yes.”_

“....Uh, r-right.” Sanji coughs. Zoro smiles to himself. “Well. Do you mind if I finish?”

“Nah, - _hic_ \- go ahead.”

“....Can I...on you?”

Fuck, yes, absolutely yes. Zoro opens his eyes again. He’s not joking, is he?

“If not that’s fine I mean-”

“Yes. Please.”

“Ah. Great.” Sanji’s smile has become something a little wry, a little tender, a little nervous. His hands that have been massaging Zoro’s sides move up over his chest, a much gentler touch this time over his tender skin. He can see the bruises spreading, some with distinct half moons of teeth. “I like this look on you. Suits you, being marked by me.” Sanji says as he leans over, pushing his swim briefs down and oh shit that’s his cock Zoro is seeing his cock.

“Only time you can, shit cook.” He says absently. He could talk back in his sleep. He probably has.

“Hm, no, I remember quite a few times I’ve left marks on you before.” Sanji says, sighing as he gets a hand around himself and starts stroking.

“ _Hic.”_

“Oh so you’re not gonna admit it, huh?” Sanji flicks his nipple in retaliation. Zoro’s whole body bucks. “Whoaaaa there! Easy, boy.” Sanji pats his hip like he’s a fucking horse.

“What are you, a cowboy?”

“Well, save a horse and all that.” Sanji says and then burns up at his own flirting. Zoro is right there with him. The thought of Sanji riding him. Or the other way around. _Huh._

He’s pulled back to earth by Sanji speeding up, and with it he’s making _noises_ . Fuck, the noises. He realizes he never let go of the cook’s legs. Okay. Okay he can do this he can touch him there. He’s already been doing it for a minute, what’s a few more? He moves his hands up and down a bit, experimentally squeezing. 

  
“Fff _uck_. Keep doing that.” Sanji pants.

Zoro can feel the muscles under his hands tensing, keeping the cook upright as he sways, distracted by pleasure. 

Things are over pretty fast. Zoro spends most of it fixated on the incredible sight before him. Sanji’s deft fingers working his cock, twisting on the upstroke every now and then, thumb dragging his foreskin down. Zoro stares, not just rapt but memorizing, wanting to know how to pleasure Sanji when he can finally handle it. Ha. _Hand_. He tries gently scratching at the back of Sanji’s thighs, moving his hands up to cup just under his ass, feeling the bare flesh and fuck is it heady. His fingers slip in between the cook’s legs, the skin even softer and more tender and he realizes he’s brushing the underside of his balls. Sanji jerks at the touch, hand speeding up.

“Zoro. Zoro, Zoro, _Zoro_ _I’m close_.” Sanji pants, hoarse.

“Come on.” Zoro breathes back, clenching at supple skin.

Sanji tips forward to kiss him sloppily and then comes over his stomach and chest, spilling out with a shudder and a groan. It's a fucking mess. It's incredibly hot.

Fuck, Zoro doesn’t know how he’s going to handle anything more...interactive. It’s bad enough he now knows what Sanji looks like when he comes. What he _feels like_ when he comes. If Zoro didn’t think he’d pass out at the first touch he’d beg Sanji to do the same for him.

Sanji slides to the deck breathing hard. “Shit, I haven’t come like that in a long time.” He rolls on his side to look at Zoro. “Are you gonna be good? Sure I can’t do anything for you?”

“Yeah. Yeah I need to wash off anyway.” He indicates to his chest. “This will probably get infected.”

“Oh hey your hiccups are go-”

**“** **HEY PERVERTS WHO THINK IT’S OKAY TO HAVE SEX WHERE EVERYONE CAN SEE YOU:** **_DON’T!"_** Nami’s voice rips through the air over the ship’s intercom.

Sanji jerks bodily. “N-Nami-swaaan,” he quietly wails. He looks sick, frozen in a great impression of a corpse. Zoro does not envy him.

“Well, that took care of that. Now I _only_ need to wash up.” Zoro’s erection isn’t completely gone, despite the powerful boner-killing powers of their resident sea witch, but it’s killed enough that he doesn’t feel the need to do anything about it. He has _plenty_ of material to think about for the future though.

He gets up, pokes Sanji with his foot. “You gonna be good?”

“No!”

“Psh, yeah you will.”

The welts and bite marks are not at all soothed by the hot water as he cleans off, but it’s almost better. It’s a bit like reliving getting them, but manageable. It’s like inoculation. He also has to pull a couple splinters out of his fingers.

Sanji pays extra attention to Nami at dinner, making sure she has everything she could ever want or need. “I’m so sorry, incredible, brilliant Mellorine! I won’t ever subject you to that green neanderthal’s hideous form again!”

“Oi!” Zoro yells. But his food was covered in hearts and presented with a hand on the back of his neck, so he doesn’t take anything the cook says too seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nami is nicer than Zoro gives her credit for. She waited until they were done to put the fear of Her into Sanji. Special Attack: Boner Killer
> 
> Also, to everyone who comments, thank you so much! I don’t always have something to say, but even a quick “this is so cute” fills me with joy! (And with motivation before I start my writing sessions lol)  
> So thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damnb, hello y'all. It's March?? And it's the longest I've gone without updating I'm pretty sure. I've been trying to get this chapter just right, so I appreciate you hanging in there.
> 
> Content warning for some brief descriptions of drowning, and canon typical references to canonical childhood trauma.
> 
> And of course, thank you so much to all y'alls funny, supportive, and generally great comments! It really does keep me going on this (I'm a sucker for positive reinforcement lol).

Thriller Bark brings more than Sanji anticipated. Besides the talking skeleton and his shadow being stolen. The cold, musty dark, the windowless hallways of stone, they are much too reminiscent of that dungeon of his childhood. And Zoro sacrificing himself. Proof that Sanji’s not even worth the air he breathes when it comes to protecting the crew. The fact that Zoro could take him down so easily, proof that he’ll never be good enough. Just like That Man always said. Despite himself, in that moment, Sanji wished for a body like his siblings, if only for a moment. No emotions, no feelings, no humanity. It would be worth it to protect the ones he loves. But he didn’t and he never will be and so he failed and Zoro survived, thank fuck, but not before shoving it in Sanji’s face that he didn’t even think enough of him to let him sacrifice himself.

But no. He knows, he knows that’s not what happened. They’ve talked. Zoro has told him. It wasn’t about that. It was about Luffy. And isn’t that the funny thing, about hating yourself? You’re still so focused on you that it being about someone else doesn’t even cross your mind.

Sanji watched over Zoro while he slept, building an argument in his head, wanting to hurl his hurt and betrayal at Zoro the moment he woke up. But then he did and it was all Sanji could do not to squeeze his guts out hugging him, so grateful that he survived. That he wasn’t going to die in his sleep, that Zoro could achieve his real, tangible dream. Sanji’s dream hasn’t even been confirmed. There are plenty of people looking for the All Blue. Someone else could find it. No one else can fulfill Zoro’s promise.

Zoro’s hand pulls him back to the present. It’s wrinkled from the soapy water. Chopper has allowed Zoro to exit the infirmary and he immediately returned to his habit of helping Sanji with the dishes. It’s sweet and he values every little touch, every brush of their shoulders when Zoro sways towards him absentmindedly. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was intentional. It’s been far more frequent than in the past. In fact, Zoro has been much more of a pest in his kitchen since almost dying. Much more than any other instance of almost dying, that is.

Maybe it’s because Chopper has been much more vigilant about stopping Zoro from weight training. He can’t get away with more than a few reps with his smaller barbells before the doctor catches him. But Zoro rarely uses them when he’s hanging around in the kitchen anyway. In fact, he’s more often getting in Sanji’s way, annoyingly underfoot. Wrapping around him when Sanji’s cooking, demanding attention and booze (which Sanji refuses, doctor’s orders). Taking any free moment to grasp at Sanji’s hands. It’s ridiculous, is what it is. It’s not sweet or endearing or reassuring at all! And it certainly doesn’t make Sanji’s heart flutter!! Zoro’s just bored! And he makes it nearly impossible to manage multiple dishes at once, what with his heavy, ridiculously muscled body hanging off Sanji.

Sanji huffs. At least when they’re doing dishes he doesn’t have to deal with a distracting marimo attached to him like moss to a rock.

For the most part, he’s fine during the day. He’s busy, he’s distracted, he only dwells on Thriller Bark when he’s doing something that doesn’t take much thinking. Even then, lately, Zoro has been interrupting those lulls.

It’s the nights that are hard. It’s not just the occasional anxiety dream now. It’s frequent nightmares, reliving the trauma, playing on it like it’s some story his mind thinks isn’t written well enough. Some nights, Reiju never shows up. Some nights, Judge never lets him go. He wakes up every night and he can’t breathe, drenched in a cold sweat. 

Zoro passes him the last dish to dry. They finish up and get ready for bed. Zoro gives him a minty kiss that takes his breath away. It’s nice, that they’re to the point they can do things like that without one of them bolting from embarrassment. Zoro’s especially come a long way. But the kiss can’t take away the rising dread in the pit of his stomach. Somehow, the night makes any malady worse. When you wake up, you’re alone even if you’re in a room full of people. They’re all transported by sleep, so you have to suffer in silence. There’s no one to help you in the dark.

Sanji’s instincts disturb his thoughts. He’s been moving automatically but now he realizes he’s being watched. Zoro is hovering as Sanji changes into his sleepwear. Sanji gives him a questioning look in the dim light of the lamp they lit.

“What?” he whispers.

“Nothing, just,” and Zoro makes a shooing motion at him. Huh???

“Are you going to sleep or are you going to stand over me like a creep while I sleep?”

“Neither!” Zoro hisses, quiet enough not to wake anyone. Ah and Sanji can see a little pink gracing his cheeks. Zoro still gets flustered every now and then. It’s cute.

“You’re not going to sleep?” Then why is he here? Granted, Zoro would usually be going off to hold watch after seeing Sanji to bed. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just-” And he makes the shooing motion again.

Well, it’s late, and Sanji’s tired. Not just from interrupted, sleepless nights, but from the feast he just cooked for. A welcome party for Brook, after they left the Florian Triangle, a party in the sun, celebrating his newfound solar resilience. It went well past sundown and the cleanup was enormous. In fact it’s probably almost midnight. Sanji’s honestly quite grateful Zoro stuck around to help. It would be well past 2am if he had had to do it alone.

The mossball’s odd behavior continues: he’s in his own sleepwear now which is less a change of clothes and more a removal of layers until he’s just in his boxers. So, no watch tonight? But he’s not climbing into a cot.

Sanji rolls his eyes, too tired to figure out what’s up with him. Maybe if he goes to sleep, Zoro will too. He doesn’t want Franky seeing them and assuming they’re “getting FFFFFREAKY” just because Zoro’s not wearing a shirt or pants. Actually, Franky would probably find that normal. It’s Usopp who would say something. Everyone is out cold though, so he climbs into bed and Zoro climbs into the one at level with his.

Sanji watches Zoro to see if he’s going to do anything about him going to sleep. But he doesn’t, he just stares intensely. Or Sanji assumes he does. The light is off now and there’s a small slat of moonlight silhouetting the man. Whatever. He lays down and Zoro lays down too.

Great, no interruptions. Maybe he can get a couple hours of shuteye in before his past decides to haunt him. He turns over.

Waits.

Rolls over to his other side.

Sigh.

Despite his exhaustion, Sanji can’t fall asleep. What the hell is going on with Zoro?

“Hey, marimo. Are you asleep yet?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not, just tired. Go to sleep.”

Sanji huffs a laugh. Fine, whatever. Zoro won’t tell him, he really is too tired to fight it, he’ll let it go. He goes through a breathing exercise and finally drifts off.

His dreams are fine at first. Variations on the past couple days, elements brought in, brain processing and transitioning items into long term memory. He dreams he’s looking for a knife. The one he needs. It’s the right shape and size for what he needs to do. He’s not sure what the task actually is but he knows what he needs. He’ll figure out the rest once he finds his knife.

Zoro shows up. Oh, he has the knife. Great! Except Zoro doesn’t want to give it back. Needs it for a task of his own. That’s fine, he can wait. But an eternity is passing and Zoro’s not done. And now he can’t find Zoro or the knife. He’s in a cave, this is where he needs to look for Zoro and the knife. The Zoro knife. Zoro the knife. Extensions of himself.

He’s looking down, the knife is in his hand. Wonderful, now he can complete his task. And Zoro’s hand is in his other. He’s found both. He can’t see Zoro’s face but he knows that hand.

There’s a fourth hand, wrapped around his that holds the knife, guiding it forward. He knows this other hand. He can’t see it, but he knows it. The knife is embedded now.

A figure appears behind Zoro. He still can’t see Zoro’s face. He looks at his own face over Zoro’s shoulder. It’s serene. It knows its task. It’s carrying it out right now. Guiding Sanji’s hand along with it.

He does and doesn’t look down, can see in multiple directions. He sees his own face smiling at him. He sees his hand driving a knife into Zoro’s gut.

Zoro’s face finally unshrouds. Sanji is leaning over him now, Zoro laid out, near dead. Torn to shreds all because Sanji couldn’t stop himself.

More hands appear, pulling him off Zoro, stopping him from putting pressure on the wound. He yells, but his voice won’t come out above a whisper. He fights but his muscles are weak. He’s trying to save the bastard, don’t stop him! Except it’s more and more of his own face, crowding him, restraining him, faces blank, unfeeling. They push him backwards into the ground into the dark. He can hardly see.

He can hardly see because there’s something on his face. He can’t move it. He knows what it is. He can feel the cold surface of it, the condensation dripping from his breath. The weight is an iron helmet.

It’s terrifying, he’s powerless, he can’t breathe. He’s plunged into cold water, the dungeon filling with brine. And then it’s hot, he’s boiling. He tries to swim to the surface, fighting against the weight on his head pulling him further down, the sway of currents swinging him around. He has to get up, get away, get out. A sharp stone collides with his stomach, knocks the air out of him and-

He wakes up to something in his bed, jostling him, an elbow digging into his stomach. His leg jerks up in response, immediate, trained defense to an attack.

There is a pained groan in response that sounds very familiar.

“Zoro??” he whispers.

“Yeah, swirly brow, it’s me. Fucking ouch.”

Sanji feels around, desperate to be proved wrong. But Zoro’s whole, no more torn up than he was when Sanji went to sleep. He doesn’t realize his breathing has ratcheted up until it’s in high gear, he’s gulping in air. And Zoro is just there, running his hands through his hair, making small sounds like he’s comforting a stray animal, trying to coax it out of a corner.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck FUCK. It’s not even- He’s not- He can’t-

The tenderness of Zoro’s touch rips through him. He sobs.

“Breathe, Sanji.” Zoro says, not unkindly but certainly firmly.

Is that all? Is that all he needs to do? He can do that. He can breathe.

He can’t breathe. His lungs are caught in a cycle of too little air caught too quickly to be of any use.

“Sanji! Fucking breathe! In. Out. Good, again. In. Out. Again. Cook come on you have to stick with me. In...out…”

Great heaving sobs roll through him again and fuck he has to stay quiet he doesn’t want to wake anyone up, shit. He buries his face in Zoro’s shoulder, trying to muffle the sound. Bare skin is terrible for this, but Zoro’s smell is real. The gross wet of his tears and snot on Zoro’s skin is real. Zoro is here. He’s not bleeding out. Sanji is on the Sunny. He’s not underground or underwater. He’s not some helpless kid. He can feel hands on his head, through his hair.

Finally, he’s able to get sturdy breathes in and keep them that way. He sniffs, a terrible, wet sound. Disgusting. There’s a distinct squelch when he breaks the seal fo his face from Zoro’s neck.

“Oh gods, are you two trying to have sex?!?” Usopp groans from one of the beds.

And honestly that’s the best evidence of reality if there was one. 

“NO!!” They both whisper-yell in return. 

“Wait, are you trying to have sex?” Sanji says for just Zoro to hear.

“No!” Zoro grits out between his teeth.

Usopp sighs. “You sure? If you want to you-ugh you can but please stay quiet about it. Or move to another room.” He says from the dark. “I really don’t want to hear any noises.”

“We’re not trying to have sex!” Sanji hisses. He hears a skeptical huff from Usopp but nothing more than some shuffling.

“Why were you assaulting me in my sleep, Zoro.” Zoro is still perched awkwardly, half leaning over Sanji. His silhouette is hit from the side by the moon. It’s a testament to his strength that he’s not on the floor right now because gravity is definitely not on his side. Nor was Sanji’s clinging to him.

“I-You were just crying!! I wasn’t assaulting you!” Zoro guffaws. “Fucking, give me your shirt your snot is all over me.”

“I’m not giving you my shirt!”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten your snot all over me!”

“Shut up! Please!” Usopp hardly whispers from the dark.

Zoro grumbles an apology.

“Thank you, geez.”

Zoro’s hand pats down Sanji’s face in the dark, eventually finding Sanji’s cheek, wiping away tears.

“You were having a nightmare.”

Sanji’s stomach flips. Gods, this man. He plays the part of gruff loner so well, Sanji forgets he’s the most mother-hen fucker on this ship. And apparently, that protective streak now applies to Sanji. Maybe it always has. It would be nice if it had, Sanji thinks. The idea of Zoro being protective of him even before is a nice thought. Maybe not how he’d always feel, but right now? It’s nice.

“Why?” he whispers.

“Don’t know, you were the one having it.” Zoro says as he does his best to crush Sanji while he fits himself into the bed. He finally gets himself along Sanji’s side and under the blanket without shaking the bed too much.

Sanji turns to him and finds himself being wrapped up in Zoro’s arms.

Okay they do need to do something about the mess he left. He wriggles out of his shirt and wipes at where he thinks he was. Zoro quickly grabs it and finishes the job, wipes Sanji’s face, tells him “blow” (which Sanji does with some regret for his poor shirt), then tosses the shirt out of the bed. And usually, Sanji would kick him out for disrespecting his clothes like that. But he really doesn’t want a snot covered shirt in bed with him.

A shirtless marimo though, is another thing. He’s shirtless now too, and Zoro wraps himself back around him, skin to skin.

Somehow, this time, contact is nothing but a comfort. No arousal, just gentle intimacy.

“Old memories.” Sanji offers.

“The Rock? Want me to get you something to eat?” Zoro’s already letting go, pushing up to find food.

Sanji pulls him back, no shirt to grab onto so he’s basically returning Zoro’s hug. He can feel the movement of his shoulder blades under his skin. He can’t help it, he reaches under to put a hand to Zoro’s belly, needing to assert reality again over his flooded mind. Still whole. “No, no. Earlier, before then.” 

“Want to talk about it?”

“Mm. Can’t.”

“‘Kay” Zoro huffs into his hair. His breath already has some of that sleep smell. Sanji wrinkles his nose, but it’s comforting anyway, because it grounds him. He doesn’t tend to smell things in dreams.

He remembers telling Zoro about The Rock. He glossed over most of the details. It was a way to explain his connection to Zeff more than anything. But ever since, Zoro had found ways to make sure he sat down to meals if only for a few minutes, or afterwards, for longer. Usually it was by being a pain in the ass. But. He had known, somehow.

This is the first time he’s directly addressed it though. Asked outright and offered food. Sanji’s not used to being given food. He is happy and comfortable in his role as cook, as provider of sustenance.

Sanji thinks about Luffy regailing them with how he first met Zoro. He’s done it a few times, recounting each crew member’s joining for the new ones. Luffy loves stories, but he’s not great on details. When Chopper joined, Zoro had been around. Apparently Usopp had heard more of the details than Luffy tended to share because he was peppering the story with them, blown to outlandish proportions to Chopper’s horror and delight. It hadn’t taken long for Usopp to realize he had a rapt audience in the little doctor. He made claims of Zoro fighting off a whole pack of wolves to save a village, but the marines didn’t like it and tied him up in the stockade for 30 days and 30 nights. Luffy would correct Usopp and then Zoro would have to correct him, but the part that was important to Sanji, one of the things that started him on this path of developing feelings for the brusk swordsman, was the fact that Zoro ate those dirty, stomped on, too sweet rice balls. And called them delicious.

“Why were you being weird earlier?” Sanji asks. Maybe he’ll get an answer now. Since Zoro isn’t hiding his thoughts so much.

Zoro grunts like he’s waking himself up. His voice scratches as he says, “Sometimes I come in from watch and you’re having nightmares.”

Sanji’s sure he’s right. The man goes to bed the latest of them all, and more than once has pulled Sanji from anxious dreams for his shift of night watch. But how would Zoro know he was having nightmares in the first place. Unless...

“Have you been checking on me when you go to bed?” This is delightful news.

“No.” Zoro grumbles, but there’s no room for him to turn away. Instead he pushes Sanji’s face away like he somehow knows he’s grinning mercilessly, even in the dark.

Sanji licks his hand in retaliation.

“Agh! Gross! Shut up.” Zoro yelps, quieting his voice to keep from waking Usopp again. He wipes his palm on Sanji’s sleep pants. Sanji decides to ignore it for the more important item at hand.

“You were checking on me, because you liiiiike me marimo.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

Sanji squirms.

“You’re no fun. You’re supposed to deny it.”

“Why would I deny I like you when I finally get to say it? That’s ridiculous.”

“I-you-!” Sanji is still not fucking used to Zoro just outright saying it. But he’s also too exhausted to feel much of anything right now. Zoro’s heat is filling the space under their shared blanket, chasing off the damp cold of his false father’s dungeon. Sanji breathes, closes his eyes. 

Zoro inhales, hesitates.

“Don’t just like you, love you.”

And oh, that wakes him up. He swallows, throat suddenly thick with emotion.

“You what?” Sanji’s voice cracks.

“I love you. I want you to live, cook. I want you as you are.”

Sanji feels goosebumps on his arms, a shiver runs up his spine. It’s almost too much to bear, the weight of those words.

“You wouldn’t want me if you really knew me.” He’s refuting it, not because he doesn’t think Zoro is sincere, but because he just doesn’t know. He doesn’t know Sanji’s a failure. And failure is anathema to Zoro. It’s unacceptable. It’s worse than death.

“I do know you, cook. Sanji.”

Sanji wishes he could turn away, curl into himself. But Zoro is taking up too much space, in the way of Sanji closing himself off.

“I don’t care about your past. I don’t care if you were the most helpless baby there is. That’s what babies are supposed to be: helpless. People aren’t supposed to be independent. No one on this ship got here alone. We’re supposed to rely on each other. Luffy relies on us to protect everyone else while he runs off and wrecks shit. I rely on you to have my back. You rely on me. You can’t use swords, I can’t kick, neither of us can read the weather like Nami or shoot things like Usopp. Merry died because fucking none of us know how to repair a ship well enough until Franky joined. We’d all be dead ten times over if it weren’t for Chopper. Robin can kill a man with a look and read the poneglyphs. And Brook, well, he’s new, but he plays better music than even those records of yours. And none of us can run on water, either. And, obviously, we all depend on you for food.”

“Actually, I can use swords.”

Zoro jerks up. “Wait, what, you can what? No okay fuck off you’re deflecting. And I know that because I know you. And yeah, cook. I love you.” He finds Sanji’s face again, presses a too soft kiss to Sanji’s forehead. He fears it’ll break him wide open, crack his skull for Zoro to sift through his memories.

Because despite what Zoro says, he’s not sure. He’s not sure Zoro will still, fuck, love him, knowing what Sanji isn’t.

“How can you say that when you don’t even know the details? What if I’m keeping a terrible secret from you?” Sanji can’t even admit that’s what he’s doing, only present it as a hypothetical.

“I don’t have to know your past to know who you are. And I do know who you are. And I love you. So shut up, stop thinking, and accept it, love cook.”

“I,” Sanji sighs out. “Give me time.”

“Sure. You don’t have to say it back.”

“No, I do l-l-l-” he takes a breath, resets. Why is it so hard to say the words when he’s been screaming it with his actions for a while now? “I do l...love you. I mean, you must know that by now.”

“You put hearts on food for plenty of people you don’t love, as well.”

Sanji knees him. “How dare you, my heart belongs to all ladies in the world!”

“Not like it belongs to me.” Zoro says darkly. Sanji gulps. He can’t escape this with humor.

“Yeah.”

“And mine belongs to you. So take care of it. And I won’t let yours waver.”

Sanji doesn’t have anything he can say to that. He’s supposed to be the hopeless romantic, and yet. And yet.

It’s always Zoro’s words that have the most effect on him.

So he kisses him, filled with emotion, holding his face maybe too tight, not wanting to let him go.

When they settle down, Zoro wraps around him again, shuffles them into a comfortable position. He’s lying half on top of Sanji, and this way Sanji can wrap around him too. And eventually, the steady breath of him lulls him to sleep. He dreams of inane things like speaking fish that fly, and bright, sun-covered parapets, far away from iron bars in the heart of a giant snail. And maybe, just maybe, grass-headed saps that love him back.

They reach Sabaody the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was horny, this one is horny for angst and affection! Hope it wasn't too much emotional whiplash lol.
> 
> Part of why this took so long was cuz I was doing [art](https://chikabika.tumblr.com/post/644492941023395840/elven-alium-ive-finally-done-it-sanusolu), which I post on tumblr: [@chikabika](https://chikabika.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn y'all, it's the last one! Thanks so much to the folks who stuck it out to the end, and everyone who commented! And if you're reading the whole thing after this finished, thanks so much for reading the whole thing through!  
> On with the show!

Two years is a long fucking time. Which is good, because it means Zoro had the opportunity to fully dedicate himself without distractions. And he spent those two years with the man he’s trying to defeat, which is even better. It’s been a long time since Zoro’s had a teacher that wasn’t Life. Loss teaches you much more than victory does. And he hasn’t had the room or time for loss since fighting Mihawk at the Baratie. Their adventures didn’t allow it. But now, he’s had plenty of opportunities, to lose, and to learn. Two year’s worth of opportunities.

He didn’t not expect to be the first to arrive at Sabaody Archipelago, but despite everyone else being the ones who get lost, they usually get to places before him. Perona keeps insisting that she’s the reason he even made it here alive but he strongly doubts that.

Getting here first was fine. What was a few more hours to wait? As it turned out, what was a few more days? He’d waited for seven hundred and thirty, already.

Well, a few days are quite a lot, when you’re waiting for the people you care about. Two years apart was almost longer than they had all been together in the first place. Zoro knows their determination, but he also knows other people are different from him. Not everyone has a single focus they hold on to for years, that brings them fulfillment and purpose. Not everyone holds an interest like Zoro does. He can imagine. He can’t imagine, but he can imagine: someone deciding they don’t want to come back. They want to achieve their goals differently. Take another path. Maybe some have achieved them in these two years. It wouldn’t be the first time someone tried to leave, and maybe this time Luffy would accept it.

Ha. Unlikely.

Of course, they all now share Luffy’s goal. Ever since Usopp returned, that’s become more and more solidified in their minds. They will see Luffy to claiming the title of Pirate King.

Still. Zoro’s not used to being this early. Perhaps he’s not early at all, and Perona fucked up and he’s later than everyone else and they left without him? Surely not. In any case, the Thousand Sunny is still docked here, so unless everyone else got confused and got on the wrong ship, he’s just...early.

Which is damn boring. 

(Among other things.)

Shakky’s bar sells the good stuff if he asks for it, and surprisingly, he gets a discount on drinks. Not by much though, and drinking all day alone doesn’t hold the same appeal as when he’s on the Sunny. He can’t start a fight on this island. Not just because Perona would give him an earful he’s not interested in hearing, but the marines would be after him which is a pain, and there’s probably not anyone worth fighting here anyway. No, he’s itching for something particular. Something to test his new strength against. And he knows what it is. He knows exactly what it is.

But it’s not here, not yet.

(He’s not here yet.)

“Ugh, this isn’t cute at all! Where are the frills? The bows, Zoro, where are the bows??” Perona holds out a dress she’s grabbed from a rack.

“Then just don’t buy it.” Zoro sighs. They’ve been at it for only twenty minutes but he’s already tired. It’s the same song and dance they’ve been doing since they got here. Perona shows up, declares he’s rotting away in Shakkyk’s bar, and drags him along with her, searching for ‘the perfect souvenir’ or ‘something worth wearing.’ They must have gone into half the clothing shops and a third of the kitchy tourist ones on the island by now, yet she won’t let up. Even when she complains of her own boredom! He doesn’t know why she won’t just leave already. She did her job, he’s here. 

(He knows why she won’t leave).

“I’m not about to come all the way here, dragging your sorry butt, not to buy anything! Besides, Mihawk would kill me if I didn’t bring him something.” 

“So you admit my butt is cute.”

“Ew!! Gross! No I don’t!!”

“But you didn’t say ‘sorry and not cute butt’ and you always point out when I’m not cute.” Zoro grins, knowing he’s gotten under her skin. It is an annoying habit of hers and yet, he’ll probably miss it when she leaves. It’s been nice, having someone who’s a peer, even if she’s not someone he can fight. Her powers meant he could have company while training without having to worry about a stray strike hitting her. And the experience of living with Mihawk demands a third party. He and Perona may not see eye-to-eye on many things but the intrinsic humor of a man like Mihawk was something they could immediately and confidently agree on.

Besides, he does have a cute butt, and he knows it. And not just because he’s been told so plenty of times by-

No, he can’t follow that train of thought. He has no guarantees what’s going to happen when he sees him again. Zoro had let himself entertain thoughts of reunion over these two years, but as time went on, he realized it was more and more dangerous to do so. And though he’s gotten better at clearing his mind, his heart stubbornly holds tight with an iron grip. And clearly, he still has work to do on his mind anyway, since he’s still thinking about- 

His heart is a lost cause, he realized that pretty quickly. Well, so be it. If his heart is broken, all that means is he’ll have more opportunities to train his thoughts.

Right.

That’s all it will mean.

And shit, he’s dwelling again. He steers himself outward, tuning into what Perona is saying.

“-which is certainly not cute, we’re not here for that. Hey! Pay attention! Stop thinking about your boy toy. Things will turn out fine.”

Zoro splutters. “Wha-I’m not-what ‘boy toy’ I don’t have a ‘boy toy’ that’s not even a thing!”

“Fine, your boyfriend, your sweetheart, the apple of your eye, love of your life, the guy you won’t freaking shut up about!”

“I don’t not shut up about him!”

“You do too! Every day it was ‘oh I’ve tasted better food’ and ‘woe is me I wish someone would kick my face in properly’ and jeez, the shit you said in your sleep!”

Zoro feels like he might burst into flame. “I did not.” He growls. He’s sure his ears are bright red. He tries to put a hand over her mouth to stop her, but she flits away from him, easy as if she were in her ghostly form.

“Whatever, lover boy. I’m sure he’ll find your new scar mysterious and your muscles attractive or whatever.” Zoro snorts in dismissal, just for the principle of the thing, but he finds her words comforting despite himself. “Anyway, we’re not here to discuss extremely true facts about you, we’re here for-ah! Zoro, there!” Perona hits him in the chest and points over to a rack in a corner of the store. 

“Super Duper Discount Rack”, says the sign.

It’s rare for her to bother coming out with her physical body. She used the excuse of treating him to lunch first, but it hasn’t escaped his notice that she’s been more touchy-feely as more of his crew have shown up. Chopper, Usopp, Nami, and Franky have all already arrived. Brook’s concert has fliers up everywhere so he must be somewhere on the island. Robin could be here or not, Zoro’s sure she’s become even more evasive in these two years. Raleigh is here, which means Luffy’s not far behind. And that just leaves...the cook. It’ll be time to leave soon, Zoro can feel it. Perona can too. So he lets her drag him by the elbow to the “Super Duper Discount Rack” where there are a number of gothic clothing items.

In fact, the rack is in high contrast to the rest of the store. While it’s covered in dark tones with white here and there, the rest of the store is filled with clothes that remind him of the wildflower fields near the dojo. In a word: aggressively colorful. Two words, then.

“Shopkeep!” Perona calls to the guy behind the counter. “Why have you put your best items in this dingy corner?”

The guy looks up from the magazine he was reading. “Oh, that’s our old stuff. When that guy Gecks Maria or something left the Seven Warlords, the owner freaked out and changed the whole shop. But no one buys that stuff anyways.” He says in a bored drawl.

“That GUY?? Gecko Moria is the greatest man to ever live! Do you have any idea of his vision? His care for his subordinates? How dare you call him ‘that guy’! Eat shit!”

The guy doubles over onto the counter, head hung low. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I ever spoke to you. I wish I could be reborn as a pebble under your shoe.”

“Oi, cut it out.” Zoro says, thwacking her shoulder. If he doesn’t get to start fights, neither does she.

“Hmph. Whatever.” Perona says and recalls her ghost. Zoro leans out of the way to give it a wide berth. “Despite you and the owner’s terrible judgement, you are the only store I’ve found that’s selling what I’m looking for. Therefore I will regretfully grant you my favor. I’m buying all of this.” She says haughtily.

“Wha-oh. Okay, cool, I guess.” the retail worker comes back to himself. “Do you want a bubble bag with that?”

“Obviously!!”

“Don’t you want to try those on before you buy them?” Zoro asks as the guy starts prepping the clothes.

“It’s fine. Half of them aren’t even for me, and besides, I’ll just get Mihawk to alter them for me.”

“You and what bribe?”

“Just because he’s stingy with you doesn’t mean he’s stingy with everyone!” Perona pouts.

“You know I’m right.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

“Ma’am, I’ve got your clothes ready. Your total is 36,200 Berries.” the guy interrupts. 

“Have fun pricking your fingers when he refuses to help you.” Zoro scoffs.

“Whatever! I was going to let you carry these for me, but since you’re being such a very not cute butt, I’m going back to my room!” she yells, slamming the money on the counter.

“Fine, well I’m going fishing!”

“Fine!”

As Perona stomps off, giant bubble full of clothes in tow, Zoro gets that itch again. It’s different, arguing with her, but it’s close enough. Like eating a favorite dish made by someone else. The ingredients or time or something are just that little bit off and it leaves you craving the original even more.

But the solution still isn’t here, even though almost everyone else is.

(What will happen when he’s here?)

So he goes fishing, like he had intended before being dragged along by Perona.

Well, he tries to go fishing. The damn fisherman points him towards the wrong boat, so of course he has to stop it from descending too far. And then there’s a bunch of annoying yelling about sunken ships and dashed dreams or whatever. If they wanted to sail to the New World they should have been able to stop a guy who can cut through ships. Reminds him of those whatever pirates that Mihawk fucked up. Actually, maybe he should watch himself. He doesn’t want to become like Mihawk, isolated except on the off chance some teenager supernaturally flies into his front yard. He doesn’t want apathy to be the cost of success.

He’s looking for that misleading fisherman, when he freezes.

All thoughts fly from his mind.

There is a figure on the shore. Classic black suit, familiar cigarette hanging from his lips. Hair parted a different way, a little fuller beard on his chin.

Zoro’s mind goes blank, his face neutral.

He’s here.

(He’s here.)

Those lips start moving, but Zoro can’t hear over the yelling on the ship so he jumps off, walking forwards. He’s not really listening either. Two years. Two fucking years and not a word. He’s sure Robin found a way to contact Franky, but Zoro had nothing. No way of reaching out-

“Oi! Mossball! Are you listening to me?!” Sanji leans into Zoro’s space, hands in his pockets.

Zoro let’s his own hand fall. Hadn’t even realized he was going to touch. But no, twenty four months is a long time. Some things haven’t changed, obviously. Sanji still smokes, still calls Zoro things like mossball. Still wears black suits that turn his figure into one terrible set of deadly legs. And his eyebrows still curl, and in the same direction, no less. Zoro grins at that.

“Obviously not.” Sanji huffs.

Some things are different now, too. Which is what stayed Zoro’s hand. Because if some things are different, other things can be as well. Sanji’s hair parts a different way. He’s a little bit taller than Zoro now, and he realizes that’s because Sanji’s shoes have some heel to them. It looks good. He’s a little more filled out now, too. So Zoro doesn’t know, not for sure. Not that Sanji’s physical appearance staying the same would tell him either, but that’s beside the point. It’s evidence of time passed.

Zoro doesn’t know where they stand. Because one hundred and two weeks is a long fucking time.

“Hi.” He gets out.

“Ah! Finally! He speaks! I thought maybe you forgot human speech, could only remember the chemical language of your underwater ancestors.” Sanji grins. There’s no bite to his words, all cheer, and Sanji’s wearing the same kind of grin as when he talks about the All Blue.

It’s amazing.

It tells him nothing

In fact, the cook is awfully cheerful, like something’s put him in a good mood. 

(Zoro wonders what it is.)

“Come on, you can help me finish my grocery shopping.” Sanji says.

“Why does everyone think I’m a pack mule.” Zoro grumbles.

Sanji gives him an odd look, but slips into argument easily in response. “What else are you good for, shitty marimo?”

“I’m good for kicking your ass!”

“I’d like to see you try! I’ll have you know I’m leagues stronger than you now! No way your training was as intense as mine.”

“Psh, my off days were more than you could handle, shit cook.”

Zoro holds out his hand, expecting to take over dealing with whatever Sanji has already bought, but the cook’s hands don’t come out of his pockets and he doesn’t untie the bubble balloon strings from his wrist. 

“Want me to take those?” Zoro says to prompt him. He may grumble, but that’s how they do things. He always manages the groceries in the end.

“Uh, no, I got them. You can take the rest though, thanks.”

Zoro stumbles mentally. That’s not how this goes.

Well, fine, whatever. He settles his thoughts, puts his hand in his haramaki instead. Zoro’s not about to start a fight over Sanji doing his fair share of carrying, not over a little thing like that. It’s not even little, it’s miniscule. It’s nothing.

It’s absolutely nothing.

(It’s not.)

So they walk into town, side by side. But not too close. He’s partially responsible for this and yet mourns the distance. He misses being able to reach out and hold hands, only his own head in the way. But now there’s another barrier: the unknown.

He’s able to catch the cook back in an argument, familiar territory. It doesn’t falter again, and he doesn’t bring up the groceries again either. The banter and insults are easy enough. Zoro doesn’t think that will ever change. He and Sanji will always fight.

And if Zoro goads him a little more than usual, who’s there to notice? If he’s already drawing a sword before Sanji has raised a leg, so what? He’s antsy, he fucking missed him. There’s the satisfaction of throwing everything you have against someone who’s worlds ahead of you, knowing you’ll lose and you’ll learn from it. And then there’s the satisfaction of throwing everything you have against your equal, and knowing they will rise up to meet you, that you’ll both become stronger so the other doesn’t leave your reach. So yes, he throws down with Sanji at the first opportunity. Because it’s familiar and it’s part of what he’s been craving, itching for. There are other things he’s craved too. Nonviolent touch, the right kind of glance, even those love letters in the form of food from the cook. But two years is a long time. It’s a long time to be apart, it’s a long time without contact.

It’s a long time for someone to step back and really consider what they want.

(Zoro did. He knows what he wants.)

Zoro wouldn’t hold it against him if Sanji decided he didn’t want this, them, anymore.

Zoro wants. Of course Zoro does, how could he not want the cook still? But he would accept Sanji’s answer because there’s no fucking point in forcing someone into a relationship they don’t want to be in. And this? This right here, with them fighting, new strength and form clashing? This is still pretty good. Zoro could acclimate himself to just this. 

He thinks.

(Could he?)

Sanji’s hands stay in his pockets the whole time. Even when they end in a stalemate, which is even better than victory because it means they can match each other. Even when he leads Zoro into a collection of outdoor stalls. He must take them out when he’s picking out produce, but his body blocks Zoro’s view.

(What’s going on?)

(Is there something the cook doesn’t want Zoro to see?)

(Did something happen to his hands?)

(Let him see.) 

(Please.)

Usually Zoro would ask, would just grab his wrist and demand answers. But something holds him back. He doesn’t like feeling hesitant. Sanji is hiding from him and that’s...that’s different. That doesn’t happen.

Sanji tells him about the food he’s buying, what he wants to make with it. His eyes light up like always, so that’s not different. 

“And these have such high calcium content plus Vitamin D and magnesium that your bones will be healthier than ever! I bet Brook will die all over again from joy! He’s going to be the strongest skeleton on the water.”

Zoro can’t help but smile at the cook’s enthusiasm.

And so they move along, Sanji buying, Zoro taking on the task of wrangling all the balloons of their haul.

(Wrangling his mind and heart.)

“I uh,” Sanji starts after a comfortable lull. “Usopp said he ran into that ghost girl from Thriller Bark.”

“Oh, Perona?”

“Uhh yeah, he said you two were...shopping together? For clothes?” And there’s that same strange look from earlier.

“Yeah, she wanted my help picking something out.”

“Wait, what? You have opinions on fashion? On her kind of fashion?!”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Wow, a lot does change in two years. Can’t believe the guy who wore the same clothes a week at a time has opinions on lace.”

“Hard not to when you spend two years with her.”

“You got sent to Thriller Bark for two years?”

“No, I got sent to Kuraigana Island. Mihawk was there and I trained under him. And so was she. She probably saved my life but don’t tell her I said that.” Zoro looks around in case she’s nearby. If he admitted any sort of amicable feelings towards her he’d never hear the end of it. Which would also be the case if Sanji knew how, exactly, she did that. He’s pretty sure Perona took a picture or two of him in that horrendous bear getup but chances are extremely low that she’d show them to Sanji. So he’s probably in the clear. Maybe.

“Don’t tell me you fight with her, marimo.” It should come out reprimanding, but Sanji’s tone falls flat.

“I mean, verbally, yeah. But she has no interest in getting hurt so she just pesters me with those ghosts of hers.”

Sanji just nods to show he’s heard.

Many accuse Zoro of not being aware of other people. That’s not true, he’s definitely aware.  
it’s just that he’s only aware of the people he cares to be aware about. He is certainly aware of Sanji. But there are seven hundred and thirty days now between them that Zoro can’t seem to bridge. Not yet, anyway. On the off chance of anything though, he needs to make something absolutely clear.

“She’s like an annoying little sister. There’s nothing going on between us. Romantically, I mean. Or-agh-sexually.” He gags a bit at the thought of that.

Sanji tries to hide it, to move smoothly like it’s nothing, but Zoro sees the hunch in his shoulders straighten out, the lines of his body smooth into a more relaxed stance. Fuck, maybe he has a chance yet.

Sanji’s straightening out reminds Zoro that the cook is now a couple centimeters taller because of his shoes.

“You like them?”

Zoro tears his eyes up. “Huh?”

“You like the heels?”

“Yeah. They uh,” Zoro has been doing his best not to stare too much at the cook’s ass this whole time. The heels are doing things to it. “They work well.” Great, good fucking job. Real specific.

Sanji smiles anyway. Everything seems to be doing that. Like he’s so filled with joy he can’t stop it bubbling over. Something really must have put him in a good mood after all. 

“The ladies I lived with gave them to me as a parting gift. I’ve got stilettos too, you wouldn’t believe the damage something like one of those would do to a person. But they’re awful for walking around soft ground like this.”

“I can imagine.” Zoro says absently. Ladies, huh. Sanji probably thought he was in paradise when he landed. Shit. Fuck he hates that he’s doubting the man but he can’t help but feel that Sanji in a paradise of women would of course decide that he didn’t want Zoro anymore. Whereas Zoro had only Sanji to think about. Even if he didn’t, even if there were plenty of distractions, he wouldn’t waver. That’s not how these kinds of feelings work for him. He only ever likes someone once in a blue moon.

He bumps into Sanji’s back. “What the fuck, Sa-swirly?”

They’re in a grove, a couple minutes outside the market they were walking through. The mangrove trees are thick here, obscuring any distance, further helped by an overabundance of bubble production. It’s honestly quite beautiful, if not a little eerie.

Sanji doesn’t answer, stays facing away from him. Zoro’s about to come around the front, demand to know what’s going on, and then Sanji lets out a forceful breath and turns towards him.

The look on his face is so familiar. It flashes by, replaced by nerves and a determined frown, but for that moment, Zoro’s hope soars. That look was the kind of affectionate look Sanji used to give him freely, the kind that, just as it does now, sends Zoro’s heart into overdrive.

Shit, no, this is just the kind of thinking that will fuck things up. He cuts his hope down ruthlessly. It will just get in the way of accepting the potential rejection Sanji’s about to deliver. Because that’s what this is, it’s a secluded area out of the way, private to some extent, and Sanji has just turned around to tell him something important. 

So this is it, the moment of truth.

Zoro steels himself.

“So, I had a lot of time to think, over these two years. A lot of time. I met a lot of new people with a lot of new perspectives I hadn’t considered. I talked with a lot of them. Especially this one girl-”

And then his resolve crumbles because Sanji is finally taking his hands out of his pockets and it’s like Zoro gets to see his whole self. They’re as much a part of the cook’s identity as his face and to have them obscured, not just by distance for seventeen thousand, five hundred and twenty hours by time, but for this partial hour by cloth. He didn’t realize just how deeply it bothered him, to not see, until the relief is flooding through.

He reaches out, moving purely on instinct. He can’t help himself.

He catches the glint of gold in the sunlight.

There are two rings on Sanji’s hands, one on each ring finger.

‘This one girl’ he said. Sanji’s married.

Zoro’s hands fall. His whole body feels like it’s going to fall. His heart is being crushed in the capable hands of the man before him.

Fuck, is he leaving the crew? Why even bother coming back then? And fucking bold of him to assume Zoro wouldn’t make a scene just because they’re in public. Did he really forget so much? Or did he bring Zoro here so they could fight it out in the open, avoid property damage?

Zoro doesn’t think he has any fight left in him. He can’t look at Sanji. He swings his head around, anticipating San-no the cook’s-No! Say it you coward! Anticipating Sanji’s spouse to appear. They’d probably say something like ‘Thanks for understanding, we’ll be going now.’ and walk arm in arm away. He doesn’t know what he’d do. He couldn’t cut them down, he couldn’t do that to the cook, but. Fuck. Maybe Sanji figured he should say goodbye in person. Chivalry and all that. It hurts. It hurts worse than any physical pain he’s ever felt.

Sanji is still talking, has kneeled down. Does he think he can dodge a swing like that? He’s pulling one of the rings off.

“-is a long time, and it was longer without you. I didn’t know if you still wanted me, which was excruciating because I wanted you more than ever. I worried you would die, alone on a deserted island, still torn to shreds, and I wouldn’t even fucking know. I know you’re too stubborn to die on anyone else’s terms, but I couldn’t stand not knowing. Any of it, whether you still wanted to be with me, whether you were dead, even just what direction in the distance you were. So, I had these rings made. I may have been collecting your nail clippings for a while, don’t be weirded out. There’s a vivre card folded into them. This ring will always pull you towards me. As my heart is always pulled towards you. Shit I’ve been talking too long, maybe this is too corny, I-” Sanji takes a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

Zoro short-circuits. His hand is still gripping Wado to ground himself but he’s completely out of it, the ground swinging wildly under his feet. What? What did he just say?

(What did he just say?)

“Hello? Marimo? Say something!”

“What did you just say?” Zoro grits out. Fuck, too harsh.

“I-shit, fuck, that’s a no, isn’t it.” Sanji mutters to himself, breaking eye contact.

“Say it again.”

Sanji looks up. Gulps, clearly steeling himself.

“Zoro. Will you marry me?”

Right, okay, that’s what he thought he said. Great. He unfreezes, and collapses into the other man, knocking them both to the soft ground.

“Fucking hell Sanji you had me-what the fuck was that--j-just be fucking straightforward!” Zoro yells. He kisses Sanji’s face, his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids. Pushes his hair up to put a kiss in the bullseye of each eyebrow.

Sanji is laughing, tears in his eyes, the brightest fucking thing Zoro has ever seen. 

“So is that a ‘yes’?”

“Yes! Fucking, absolutely yes! You think I’d say no, love-cook!?”

And Sanji is burning up at that. It’s good to know Zoro can still make him blush with words. He presses on though, reaching up to put the ring on Zoro’s appropriate finger. Kisses it. Shit, now Zoro’s blushing too.

He has waited one million, fifty-one thousand, and two hundred minutes for this man. A little pink on his cheeks isn’t going to stop him now. He kisses Sanji like he won’t stop. Maybe he won’t, maybe he’ll just kiss him until they both grow old and die. He kisses his knuckles, the tips of his fingers. He kisses him like he means it, because he does.

“You know, we never settled on what to call each other.” Sanji says, breaking apart. Zoro pushes back in, Sanji meets him. He’s not nearly done. He’s holding onto the cook, pushing his arms under his back, needing to be as close as possible. Sanji agrees, wrapping around him with his whole body too. Finally together, after all this time apart. He wants to press closer, intertwine their atoms at the boundaries of their skin. 

The stubble burn is new. He doesn’t mind it.

“Husband sounds pretty good to me.” He tries to say it between kisses, between breaths, not letting the cook think about stopping. But he’s caught, Sanji’s hands holding his cheeks.

He’s got the goofiest grin on his face, crooked lips and crinkled eyes. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Zoro leans in again, but before he can reach home, Sanji’s eyes widen in surprise, looking over Zoro’s shoulder. “Oh shit, Zoro, the groceries are flying away!”

Ah, that’s right, Zoro did let go of those balloon strings, didn’t he.

“It’s fine, let them. I’m not done kissing you.” he says as he nestles further into Sanji, trying to make good on his words.

“Shut up asshole, that’s a waste of food!” Sanji says into his mouth, holds on a little longer. The bubbles must get too far away eventually though because he untangles and kicks Zoro off to go...up into the air. Sanji can walk on air now, apparently. Great.

Zoro lays on his back on the ground, rubbing at his bruising side. He looks at the ring on his finger. Feels the slight tug of it towards Sanji in the air, retrieving their food. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Sanji touches down again, all bubbles accounted for. “Way to help me, shitty swordsman.”

“Seemed like you had it covered, dartbrow.”

Sanji squats down and starts tying them around his wrist.

“Oi! I’m not a kid that’s going to lose his balloon!”

“Apparently you are! Hold still!”

Zoro acquiesces but not without making sure the cook hears his grumbling. But he doesn’t resist, because he gets to watch Sanji’s hands, his ring catching the light every now and then. He helps Zoro up.

He leans in and whispers into his ear, “By the way, I’d love to hear those opinions on lace. I have some things other than shoes that I brought back with me.”

It takes Zoro a second, but when he gets it, the look on his face has Sanji cracking up.

“W-wait, what that a joke?”

Sanji just smirks at him, walking away backwards like he thinks he’s the smoothest motherfucker in the world.

“Tell me that wasn’t a joke!” Zoro doesn’t even care that he’s being pulled along without so much as a finger touching him. 

“You’ll just have to find out, won’t you, marimo?” Sanji says over his shoulder as he turns around.

Shit.

He needs to change the subject right now otherwise he’s gonna be asking for things not suited for the public eye. Or, less suited than what they were just doing.

“So, what, are we married now?” Zoro asks, catching up to him.

“If you fucking think I’m about to pass on a wedding you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I don’t know, that was a pretty nice looking spot.” Zoro says, looking behind him at the grove. Now that he’s not on pins and needles, he can actually appreciate the beauty of the place.

“Yeah, for a proposal! I want a cake, Zoro! I want to cut it together and stuff the first piece into your mouth and taste frosting when I kiss you. I want our friends and family there. I want to force you into a suit and it’s going to fit right and you’re going to admit you don’t mind it so bad. I want pictures! I want to read the news the next day saying the second and third most dangerous men in the world just got married.”

“I better not be number three.”

“You’re focusing on the wrong part.”

“If anyone’s number two it’s me, cook.”

“Whatever, the two second most dangerous men. Happy?”

“I’m the second-point-five most.”

“That’s not how it works!”

“Well, anyway, if you want our friends and family there, you’ll have to wait until Luffy’s the Pirate King. We can’t turn around now.”

Sanji nods and considers, tapping his chin. “Hmm, but I don’t want to wait that long.”

“Then let’s just have two.”

“You can’t have two weddings, Zoro, that’s ridiculous. It’s supposed to be the most important day of your life, not the most important days.” Sanji argues as they make their way to the Sunny.

They are only mildly interrupted by the fights breaking out. The Kuma-bots are nothing, but Sanji does acquiesce on the two weddings during the fight, only because Zoro points out that if Luffy officiates, he’ll demand to do it a second time as Pirate King anyway.

“So really, there’s no escaping it.” Zoro says as Sanji lands, the robot exploding behind him.

“Fine! You’re right, we’ll get married twice! And here I thought you’d be against doing it just the once! Now come on, we have to go! It’s time to leave.”

“Huh? What was that?”

“Us! Ship! Now! Run fast!”

“No shithead, what was that about me being right!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Sanji yells over his shoulder.

“We’re still having two weddings, love-cook!” Zoro yells, running after him.

More marines show up to block their way, but Perona makes quick work of them with her ghosts, no longer corporeal herself.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Zoro yells.

“Are you serious? You thought I would let you go without saying goodbye?” Perona yells right back, sending another trio of ghosts through approaching marines.

“How did you even know where I was?”

“I may or may not have been following you.”

“Are you kidding me?!”

“What’s a ghost body for, if not to spy? Congrats on your engagement! I better get an invite to the wedding!”

“Zoro! Come on!” Sanji yells, grabbing his hand. He’s been held up by his own new friends, who have also been taking care of the increasing numbers of marines. He can hear them calling after Sanji, stuff about keeping in touch and not forgetting to take time for himself. All while absolutely wrecking the soldiers around them. Damn, those ladies can kick as hard as the cook. No wonder he’s so much stronger.

“Fine!” he yells back to Perona.

He and the cook are running hand-in-hand, bubble balloons billowing behind them. Zoro can feel their rings clacking together.

“Number Seven shouldn’t talk to Number One like that, you know. Show some respect, shit-cook.”

“Oh shut up! I”ve changed my mind, I don’t want to marry you anymore!”

“Yes you do!” Zoro grins.

Sanji turns around, running backwards and sticks his tongue out at him, pulling his eyelid down. It’s ridiculously childish. Zoro wants to kiss him so bad. He didn’t get nearly enough kisses in at the grove. His grip tightens, tempted to stop just for a moment, but before he can decide one way or the other, they make it to the Sunny, just as Luffy arrives. 

“Zoro! Sanji! You made it!”

All three hop aboard, everyone else there and ready to go.

“Alright, everyone! Thank you for listening to my selfish request these two years! LET’S SET SAIL!!!”

“YES CAPTAIN!” They all shout back, cheering. They’re all finally reunited. Nami starts yelling orders for submerging, and there’s no time to talk as everyone runs to their positions.

Later, when their initial descent has stabilized, Luffy comes over to where Zoro is looking out over the railing.

“So Sanji found you, huh? Congrats!” he says, pointing at Zoro’s ring.

“Wait, how-”

“He told me he was planning to before we got separated.” Luffy says.

“Oh.” Zoro isn’t sure what to do with that information. He scratches at his hair. 

“Huh.”

Luffy slaps him on the back. “Shi shi shi! You always get like that when it’s about him! So, tell me about where you were!”

“Well, you’ll never believe it, I was training with Mihawk.”

“Whoa, the guy who cut you up at the Baratie?”

They chat about their two years. Luffy hints at a new technique he’s excited to try on the next guy who needs his ass kicked. Zoro talks about what it was like to train under Mihawk.

It gets darker and colder as they get lower. Everyone’s putting on sweaters, Chopper and Usopp are fawning over Franky’s new body. Zoro has to assume they’re still at it only because he and Robin took some alone time in between departure and now. Brook is playing something nice, fitting for the dark atmosphere around them.

Sanji comes out of the kitchen, carrying a cake and a few dishes of snacks.

“Alright everyone! I’ve got some terrible news!” Sanji announces, grinning. “Me and the shitty swordsman are getting married!”

“Finally!” Nami and Usopp yell.

“Congratulations, Cook-san, Swordsman-san.” Robin chuckles.

“SUUUUUUUPERRRRRR” Franky yells, posing.

“What heart-warming news! Except I don’t have a heart! Yohohohoho! “ Brook exclaims and changes his tune to something terribly romantic.

“Congratulations, Zoro!” Chopper says, hanging onto Zoro’s leg.

“Oh! Oh! I’m the one who does the thing! I”m the captain, I get to marry them!” Luffy jumps up and down, hand raised. No one challenges him on it, but he insists it must be him.

Zoro gives Sanji a look across the deck, mouths “I told you so.”

And of course the cook would announce it like this. Zoro covers his eyes, embarrassed, overwhelmed with emotion at the reality of it. Shit. They’ve been apart so long and now they’re making this kind of commitment to each other. It’s more than he dared to let himself hope. The cool metal catches on his skin and he can’t help but blush, thinking of it as an extension of Sanji. It’s like he’s always touching him now, in some small way. Shit, he can feel tears running down his face. This is ridiculous. He doesn’t cry!

Well, he doesn’t cry for sadness. But joy? Can he cry for joy?

When was the last time he was this happy?

(Never.)

“Hey, Zoro.” Sanji says quietly. 

When did he get so close? 

Sanji pulls gently at his hand. “Hey.”

“What, love-cook?” Zoro refuses to open his eye. He tastes salt in his mouth.

“I’m glad you said ‘yes.’ I love you.” Ah, but he does open his eye at that and Sanji is wearing an absolutely blinding grin. Fuck.

Sanji wipes the tears from his cheek, and Zoro is reminded of that night almost two years to the day when he did the same for the cook. Entirely different circumstances now, though. Wonderfully different. Only happy tears, today.

He leans in for a kiss, says “I love you.” against Sanji’s mouth.

There are hoots and hollers from the deck.

“Get a room!” Nami yells, but she sounds a bit choked up herself. Goddamnit, everyone’s a fucking sap on this ship.

“I’ll get on it!” Franky declares. He is outright bawling.

There’s good food, good music, more crying and laughing. More congratulations and friendly ribbing. Zoro can’t help but laugh and grin, making no effort to hide his unadulterated joy. Under the lights of the deep ocean, surrounded by the ones he loves, committed to his beloved: it is the perfect first step into a New World. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you! This was my first fic I've posted as I wrote it, without having everything done beforehand. I committed at the beginning to finish it (I plan to have no unfinished works here), but sometimes my mood about the story would change as time went on, so I hope it felt consistent to you.
> 
> I made a cover for the fic on my tumblr [here!](https://chikabika.tumblr.com/post/645221656955092992/in-just-a-few-moments-the-final-chapter-of-tight) Go check it out if you get a chance!
> 
> (edit: edited the thing about posting as I go for clarity)


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